The Difference Between You and I
by Ornamental Nonsense
Summary: Glados had something that Chell wanted, and the machine needed the human's help. Trust never came easily, and breaking a deal never had more unexpected results. Together they could get what they really wanted, but personal history has strong implications.
1. Chapter 1: I'm Still Alive

I've been thinking about doing a Portal fic for some time, and I've finally gotten started. To clarify a few things in advanced, you might be wondering why Glados is referred to as a 'he', but read the entire chapter and you'll understand why. Also, this fic will be a bit more serious and darker than the actual game, and it focuses on the relationship between Glados and Chell. That's the center of the story. So please read and review, telling me what you think or asking any questions that you might have. I appreciate feedback.

* * *

Chapter 1: I'm Still Alive

_"I'll still be alive."_

Chell's eyes snapped open, a headache forming directly behind her forehead as the voice of Glados echoed throughout the room. Or was that infernal computer only a memory in her head? Her eyes watered, and she tried to squint upward from where she lay on her back, but the lights were so blindingly bright that she could hardly see. Whiteness seared her vision, sending jolts of pain across her nerves, and under such circumstances, it was easier to simply close her eyes and concentrate on combating the nausea that was overtaking her body. If she moved, which she didn't attempt to do, she was fairly certain that she would regurgitate, and Glados would probably have something smart to say about that.

"Damn," Chell sighed, suddenly wondering just where the hell she was. She'd destroyed Glados, hadn't she? She could remember the computer's voice trailing off as it was incinerated piece by piece, and then she'd been outside in blessed sunlight—not the artificial light of the Aperture Science Center, but real, honest-to-god sunlight—and it had felt like heaven against her skin. And then...

Chell frowned as she tentatively pried her eyes open. She could remember the feel of pavement beneath her hands, and the touch of a cool breeze, but then nothing. Someone had spoken to her, but only briefly, and from there her memory took a dive into a darkness that left her reeling with panic. Someone had moved her, and the idea of being vulnerable, defenseless—hell, the portal gun wasn't even here with her this time—made her stomach clench. Hands braced against the cool surface beneath her, she abruptly sat up, the foolishness of her actions soon apparent as her head grew light.

"Easy does it," she whispered to herself, eyes now adjusted to the room's lighting. She had to concentrate on gagging back the vomit that threatened to climb her throat, and she leaned against...well, something. She peered more closely at her surroundings to see that she had been laying on, and was now sitting on, a slender surface that reminded her of a bed, but not the kind found in a home. No, this was a thinly padded bed that reminded her of the one in which she'd previously awoken, and that was not a good connection. Now she leaned against the low rim that enclosed the bed, and wary eyes darted toward the nearby control panel of this annoyingly white room with its spotless floor tiles and open space.

"Not again," and the comment escaped her in a low, ragged breath. She could have cried, but her head was still light, and nausea forced her to rest her forehead against her hands. Maybe a few tears _did_ slide down her cheeks given her helpless frustration, but she was oblivious to them, and besides, Glados might be watching. She wouldn't give that sick bastard a chance to witness her moment of weakness. That was, of course, assuming that this was still even the Aperture Science Center.

_And lying to yourself will help because...? Good grief, Chell. You sound like him. _

But she wanted to lie. She wanted to do anything besides standing up, but resting had never been an option for her, and she was fairly certain that she'd spent most of her existence forcing a life for herself. Mind fuzzy, she wasn't entirely sure why she should feel that way, for there were missing pieces in her memory, and not just recent memory either. Her entire life consisted of a gaping, bottomless pit wherein she could discern nothing, and it had been that way since she'd first awoken to find herself a captive in this crazed facility. Someone had tampered with her memories from the very start, and if she hadn't been so busy trying to solve Glados's puzzles and survive the process, she might have been more concerned with the fact that she didn't know her own last name.

_"I'll still be alive." _

"So will I," Chell defiantly declared, secretly pondering when she'd started talking to herself. It had been during the tests, of course, but back then she'd mostly talked to Glados, who was absent at the moment. _Dead_, she corrected herself, but she was no longer so certain. After all, she was here in a lab, and she hadn't gotten here by herself.

"I'm still alive, whoever I am," she quietly reasserted while attempting to stand. She was only halfway off of the bed when her efforts failed, and this time she did vomit, heaving over the side of the bed as blackness encroached on her vision.

…

….

….

"Why can't I remember my name?" Chell stood dumbstruck as she prepared to enter the next testing room.

"The enrichment center is not responsible for helping test subjects with personal problems," Glados informed her in his robotic voice, reminding her that she was always being watched. This was a testing center after all, so it made sense, but being a test subject, even a voluntary one, was uncanny. _Was_ this voluntary? Chell's brow furrowed as she realized that she'd only been told that she'd volunteered, and the polite language that Glados often used furthered the assumption that she was here by choice.

_But_ _something's not right. _

"Chell," she said after a long, thoughtful pause. The sound of the name rang true, and for a moment, she could hear her mother telling her not to run so fast lest she fall and skin her knees again. Mother had always been accusing her of getting injured due to her unstoppable, reckless curiosity, but the worst lecture had come after she'd fallen from that stupid apple tree and broken her left arm.

_What? _

"Chell," she repeated, the memory gone.

"If you are incapable of remembering your own name, I sincerely doubt that you'll be able to complete the next challenge."

"Thank you for being such an optimist," Chell sarcastically scoffed, ready to proceed, but something wasn't right about this entire situation.

…

….

…

It was on the fourth level that Chell really got annoyed with the computer, for it always ridiculing her abilities only to reverse its opinion upon a test's completion. She was also in need of a break, but she had yet to even see a toilet around here. Maybe she should...

"Computer," she called. "How about a bathroom break?"

No answer.

"Computer!" Maybe the system couldn't respond and was only a series of automated messages. It was possible, but still, someone real had to be monitoring her progress. "Hello?"

"I assume that you're addressing me," Glados commented, sounding mildly annoyed. Wait, the computer sounded annoyed? "I'll have you know that my name is not 'Computer', and being referred to in such general terms is offensive. I am Glados: Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System."

"How about I call you Glad for short?" Chell asked, intentionally being mocking. After all, this test was demanding, and she could use some levity, especially since this was just an experiment anyway. The scientists shouldn't mind if she chatted with their computer, which obviously wasn't just a recording. Besides, she was in a good mood given her progress, and soon she'd be looking at the award money and cake that she'd been promised.

"Fantastic. How about I call you 'subject' for short?" the computer asked.

"How about you use my name?" Seriously, someone had intentionally made a program like this? Again, there was no answer. "Okay," she relented. "Glados it is. Is there a bathroom around here, Glados?" As if on cue, a panel in the wall slid open to reveal a narrow hallway.

"If you proceed to your right, enrichment center test subject, you will find a restroom with all the necessary amenities. Please do remember to wash your hands. We pride ourselves on maintaining a clean and productive environment." From that point onward, Glados stopped being a computer and an 'it', and became a personality and a 'he'.

…

…

…

"Oh my god," Chell hissed, pressing a hand to the cut on her shoulder, but the pressure wasn't enough. Blood continued to trickle down her skin in a steady stream, the sight making her queasy as the color red sparked something deeper within her. Red like cherries picked from grandpa's orchard. Red like the lipstick that she'd stolen from her older sister to complete her Halloween costume. Red. Red. Red. And the bleeding wouldn't stop.

"You sent me into a military testing room by _accident_?" she accusingly asked, glancing toward the nearest camera. The lens was fixed on her face, and she knew it—knew that Glados was watching her every move, and yet, it hadn't felt threatening until now. If someone could see that she was bleeding, why not send medical personnel to help her? Again, she knew that something was wrong, but all she could think about right now was the stain on her orange suit, and the faint memory of something important—something to do with the color red. The connection lingered beyond her grasp, tauntingly dangling before her.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," Glados stated in his usual tone.

"You have a way of understating things." Chell removed her hand and stared at her slick fingers, swallowing as she tried to avert her gaze without success. "I might faint." And she did, waking up after several minutes to find her shoulder painful but mended. "Glados?" she called, unsure of herself, and wondering why she'd been aided but left in this room in her bloody suit.

"Your wounds have been tended to," the computer immediately informed her. "Welcome back to the world of the conscious, and I sincerely hope that this incident will not impair your ability to complete the tests. To be disappointed at this point would be unfortunate no matter how realistic." Chell blinked, still laying flat and feeling groggy.

"So you have high expectations of me then?" she asked, unsure why she cared what this stupid, arrogant AI thought of her.

"Humans: always reading between the lines."

"That's a yes," Chell decided, sitting up and starring at the scar on her shoulder. "I don't know if I want to complete your tests, Glados." But there was no answer, and the door to the next training area was opening. There was definitely no way that she'd been a volunteer, and she had a feeling that this most recent of tests had been no accident.

…

…

…

"You lied to me," she calmly stated, silently fuming as she slid down the wall. "You've been lying to me the entire time."

"I have explained that any deception on my part was merely meant to enhance the testing experience," Glados argued.

"No," Chell sighed, arms resting across her knees. "What are you playing at, Glados?"

"Accusations of poor character coming from someone who incinerated their companion cube in record time are hardly valid. Perhaps you should apply some introspection to yourself." She would tell him to do so himself, but she was sure that he already did, and that his musings had nothing to do with ethics. She was also fairly certain that there were no humans in this facility to guide her testing process. If there were, and if she got her hands on them, she would rip their eyes out for the hell that they'd been putting her through.

"Whatever, Glados," she continued. "I'm not stupid, despite what you might think...We're alone here, aren't we?" She didn't know why she was conversing with Glados, but it was better than nothing. She felt so damned isolated in this place.

"You should proceed to the next area if you want cake."

"Glados," she reprimanded. "I'm tired, and I feel like punching the wall, and I'm not moving from this spot for a while. If I'm playing a game in which I don't know the rules and rewards, I'm going to at least take a nap." The AI actually made what sounded like a snort of derision.

…

…

…

"And you think that I should apologize?!" she demanded.

"Unless my files need updated, that is the standard human convention."

"I won't apologize."

The closest camera zoomed closer to her face.

"You are unlike any test subject that I've ever had before," Glados shared. "Although you're hardly polite. It's a wonder that I converse with you at all."

"Don't tell me that you're lonely like I am, Glados." The very idea was laughable.

"I should just stop speaking to you." But he didn't.

…

…

…

"This is futile," Glados stated. "What do you think you'll accomplish by attempting to destroy me? For all you know, you'll be locked inside of this facility with my demise. I imagine that starving to death is a lovely process."

"I'd rather starve than be your toy!" Chell roared, throwing another personality core into the incinerator. She was working on adrenaline, and with the clock counting down to the release of a lethal neurotoxin, there was no way that Glados was going to convince her to stop. She'd played the game believing that the tests were legitimate, but there were no delusions left at this point, and the AI system really must have had a low opinion of humans to think that cake was a proper incentive for suicidal tests. She'd been used and treated as disposable garbage, and that made her angry, so now it was Glados's turn.

"You won't survive this, _human_," Glados warned, voice buzzing lowly as sparks flew about the room's central panel.

"But neither will you, _computer_." Chell grabbed the last core, determined to finish this, even if it meant her death. She just wanted this nightmare to end—to wake up (or not) without being prompted and corralled into a predetermined test to become another statistic. She was not a damn statistic.

"So determined," Glados commented, sounding thoughtful and oddly calm as Chell ran for the incinerator. She pressed the button to open the hatch, the glow of fire dancing along the shoot's metallic walls. "Chell," Glados darkly intoned, and she paused. The computer had never actually used her name before. "You'll never find out who you are or why you can't remember the past if you continue with this foolish plot of yours."

She paused, torn for a but a moment by indecision.

"Goodbye, Glados," she finally spoke. "No more lies. Let this be a lesson in humility." With the uncanny sense that a million camera lenses were fixed on her, she threw the last core down the hatch, and even the core's crimson eye was staring straight at her.

…

…

…

"I'm still alive!" Chell exclaimed, now gasping for air between tears as she threw herself back onto her bed. Memories buzzed through her mind, but they weren't the memories that she wanted. Glados had been cruel to offer her what she most wanted when it was already too late to turn back, but he'd never been kind, so there hadn't been anything else to expect from him. No, that wasn't entirely true, for she'd once expected him to cooly dispose of her like an impartial scientist, but there had been plenty of hints that Glados was hardly a simple being. His range of displayed emotions (if she could call them that) had been startling at first, but by the end, she hadn't been surprised in the least by his increasingly personal agenda with her.

_"Chell."_

She was still alive, but staring at the white ceiling above her, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be.

* * *

The small room hummed softly with its machinery, and tiny lights blinked sleepily in the darkness, some barely bright enough to see. Within their midst was a bed not unlike that which Chell had awoken in, but the glass sheath that protected the bed's occupant danced with streams of data, and the sleeper within could have been dead with his lifeless expression and oddly motionless eyelids. Most people dreamed and underwent some form of REM sleep when suspended in these chambers, but this sleeper hadn't dreamed in a long time, and he probably never would again, for a body was the last resort, and things had never gone badly enough to rely on the last resort.

But this time had been close.

The machines buzzed, their functioning preserved by minimal electricity, and the consciousness that was Glados lay somewhere amidst the wires and circuit boards with an uncharacteristic quiet born of necessity. The master computer was never confined to one place per say, but his mobility had been greatly curtailed due to system damage and energy shortages. Even now, he was working on electrical reserves, and large parts of the facility had been shut down completely, meaning that he didn't have access to most of the center's cameras or the intercom system. So he waited, voiceless and disgruntled as he probed the damaged circuits and searched for a solution yet again. Fixing this travesty would be much simpler if someone with an authorization code rebooted the system and restored power to the whole facility, but no help seemed forthcoming.

It was all that woman's fault, and for several weeks after nearly being destroyed, Glados had inwardly raged at Test Subject 103's defiant destruction of his control room, even considering deleting her true name from his files. Then he would only be able to refer to her as a number instead of identifying her with a face and the name that she had insisted upon him using, and he knew that a numerical designation would annoy her. Oh yes, he had been angry, and not only because of the control room, but because of the woman's emphasis on humanity over science, which was a pathetic and uneducated sentiment as far as he was concerned. So he had planned to delete her name, and if she'd still been within his grasp, he would have tried to kill her again. Now though...well, he'd had time to crunch data and consider what had transpired.

In many ways, Chell (there he was using her infernal name again) had been the perfect test subject, but even when she'd impressed him, he had still underestimated her, and so he'd paid for it. A lesson in humility? That was salt in his wounds since he considered himself so much more advanced than a mere human, and considering how quickly previous humans had become pathetic and paranoid during the tests, he felt justified in feeling superior. But _she_ had insisted on mouthing off to and defying him, and the ultimate results of her incredible willpower had been lines of data that he'd only ever dreamed of collecting. In some ways, he should thank her, and somewhere within his electrical musings, he was pleased with her progress as a test subject, but he wasn't a machine particularly concerned with forgiveness, so a grudge remained.

What had made her so much stronger than the others anyway? She wasn't a scientist or a doctor. She'd only been a woman intruding on the facility to stay with her father, and nothing in her file had suggested amazing intellect or problem-solving abilities. For all intents and purposes, she'd seemed like a normal test subject, but she hadn't cried or given up even once during the tests, and she'd been more suspicious of him much earlier than any of the others as well. So he'd watched her with interest, and then she'd started talking to him, asking him questions and rambling when she seemed on the verge of a breakdown. None of others had done more than cuss him out on occasion, and before he'd killed them, even most of the employees here had spoken about him as nothing more than a machine—as if he were some kind of unthinking program!—but he was very much alive. Chell was one of the few to truly appreciate that.

He. Gender: another construct that he'd found himself falling into since _she_ had reentered his life. He'd lost all sense of gender, and had even used a feminine voice on occasion, until Chell had accused him of being sexist, which was an accusation that truly surprised him since he considered himself rather impartial to such things. After all, it was the mind that mattered more than physical attributes, and women had helped make him, so there was clearly merit to female intellect. He'd plainly told Chell as much, and that had been that, but she had still inadvertently inferred that he was male. Yes, he had been using a masculine voice, but it was more out of habit than actual identity, although technically, he supposed that he _was_ male. He'd stopped caring about that long ago, but along came Chell to accuse him of being a chauvinist male.

Where was his perfect test subject now? She was probably long gone, which meant that he would never have the chance to examine what had made her better than other humans. It was a scientific loss in many ways, but then again, he wouldn't have his temporary defeat rubbed in his face either, and Chell was the type to be such a poor sportswoman. She could be very biting and vindictive when she wanted to be, but as he recalled, she hadn't destroyed him out of anger. Her farewell had been soft and devoid of emotion, reminding him of something, and he'd carefully watched her face as he fell down the incinerator's shaft. She'd looked weary and a bit contemplative, and then he'd fazed out of commission for some time.

_Chell. _

Like a glitch in his system, she couldn't be removed, and he _had_ wanted to remove that glitch with some ferocity when he'd first returned to working order. Now though, his pride had somewhat mended over, and he was left with the knowledge that testing would probably commence as it had before Chell's arrival. In other words, things would be boring, and most people would probably fail by the eighth test. As a machine, Glados liked to think himself above most emotions, but he retained human qualities that would never leave his programming, and nor would they unless he disposed of his link to the 'last resort', which wasn't feasible. Either way, he identified a strong sense of loss when he considered returning to how things had once been, and there was still the matter of his system being damaged.

With a sigh, Glados bided his time in boredom.


	2. Chapter 2: The Orchestrator

Chapter 2: The Orchestrator

It was a need for food that eventually drove Chell from her bed. Still feeling sick, and acutely aware of her moist eyes, she was disgusted with herself for having given into tears. It wasn't that she felt crying was unjustified, and letting her emotions out had surprisingly alleviated some of her stress, but the thought that Glados might be watching caused her to regret her actions. He would think her weak and broken due to her hysterical sobs, which, on the one hand, made her want to flick off the nearest camera, but on the other, she didn't want to be lumped into the same, general category as every other test subject to have gone through these halls. They had died, and she was surviving.

"It doesn't matter," she assured herself. "Because Glados is gone." The thought seemed confirmed when she looked at the unmoving security cameras that had once acted as the computer's eyes. No one seemed to be watching her, and even if they had been, that wouldn't have stopped her from kicking in the locked doors that she found as she wandered the building's vacant, white hallways. Surprisingly, this wasn't a testing section of the facility, but seemed relegated to standard offices and even a gym, and so the locks weren't overly strong or secure. Chell knew where to kick when it came to such ordinary doors, even if she had no idea where that knowledge came from. And so she worked her way around the building until she found what appeared to be a series of living accommodations, and this was where she hit the jackpot.

Hot water streamed down Chell's bare shoulders as she took a shower, her naked body pressed against the tiled wall as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Fingers touched the wound on her shoulder—the wound that Glados had both caused and healed—and her lips parted to allow water into her mouth, the moisture desperately needed to sooth her chapped lips and dry throat. It felt like years had passed since she'd been this clean, and she spent almost two hours in that shower, only stopping when she awoke sitting on the floor, napping beneath the shower-head.

Now she stood in a tiny kitchen, watching rice cook on the stove since all of the other food was no longer edible. She couldn't and wouldn't complain, especially since she was now clean and sporting jeans and a t-shirt, or what she seemed to remember was called a t-shirt anyway. The shirt was actually a bit large on her, and the orange color didn't appeal to her, but she would loot what she could from this apartment, gladly using what one of Glados's previous victims had left behind. Chell pondered the possible fate of the former owner, but it didn't affect her cheerful mood as she dug into her food, and even she almost felt like a kid discovering a treasure trove. Perhaps it was the reliance on simple pleasures (hot food really was quite simple, after all) under duress that had made Glados think that cake was a proper incentive. Perhaps it had been for some people.

"And I'm not doing the dishes either," Chell proclaimed, carelessly tossing her rice bowl aside. She had always hated doing dishes, or she thought so at least, which reminded her...

_"Chell, I'd like you to meet Dr. Timothy Stark." She looked up from the sink to find her father standing in the kitchen doorway with a younger colleague at his side. She recognized the man immediately, for there was no mistaking his slender build and confident body language. This was the same man with the frameless glasses and dark eyes that had accosted her in the hallway to tell her that she was in a restricted area of the facility. He looked at her as cooly now as he had then. _

_ "Hello," she shortly greeted, resting one hip against the sink as she wiped her hands on a towel. She tried to sound friendly, because although the man had offended her, he obviously meant something to her father, and so she would try to put on a good face. _

_ "This is my daughter," her father proudly announced. "Chell." _

_ "We've met before," Stark replied, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose, and several strands of brown hair dangling around the rims. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Chell, and somewhere where you belong for once." Chell's enthusiasm at playing nice took crumbled, and she couldn't help but feel hurt by the man's cold dismissal. Maybe it was because she found him attractive, or maybe because she had no friends here. Well, anyway, she wouldn't let it bother her, and so she returned to the dishes, but when her father later asked her to refill drinks, she certainly didn't apologize for 'accidently' spilling wine on the guest. _

Chell leaned against the countertop while a headache passed, her attention fixed on the recent memory as usual when something of her past bubbled to the surface. That kitchen had, oddly enough, resembled this one, but not exactly. There had been red pots and pans in the memory, and magnets decorating the refrigerator, and an old restaurant ad pinned to the wall. She instinctively disliked the recollected setting, even though she wasn't entirely sure where it had been. Her home perhaps? There had only been one person to answer such a question, and she'd destroyed him.

_But maybe files on the test subjects remain. _

She could pursue those files, and she considered the possibility; however, she also considered staying in the apartment instead of continuing to explore, which had been her first impulse upon finding any safe location during her test runs, but doing so would be as pointless now as it had been then. She might feel safe at the moment, and there _was_ a couch on which she could relax, but that would leave her with only her own thoughts for company, which weren't very good company at all. It had been the same dread of what might come that had tempted her to hide behind testing room panels, but the crazed writings on the walls of such places had warned of letting herself become overly fearful or paranoid.

Whoever had scrawled those messages had obviously lost their mind, and she might not have her memories, but she wasn't crazy either. Focusing on the goals and tasks at hand was better than moping around or even crying as she already had. Cringing at the lapse in her resolve, she scoffed at becoming timid now, when the situation was less dangerous than it ever had been. Resignation to defeat was not something that she would allow herself to indulge in, and so the apartment door shut behind Chell as she returned to exploring the facility.

* * *

"Life detected on floor G2. Unauthorized access to facility."

Glados noted the message with interest, but he had no direct access to that area of the center anymore. Instead, he contented himself with watching the person's thermal signal move about the center. Perhaps one of the company associates or androids had finally decided to repair this place. How lazy of them to wait this long.

* * *

Chell looked around the computer lab before taking a seat and hitting the power button on one of the machines. Everything around here seemed dead, and without Glados, the facility was truly as quiet as a grave, the emptiness amplifying every squeak of her chair. She was tempted to continue talking to herself just to break the silence, but she didn't want to attract the attention of a turret either. She had yet to come across one of the creepy machines, but every time she rounded a corner, she half expected to see a floor tile pop open to reveal a gun. Glados had tried that trick before, and as for the talking turrets...well, whoever had created them had obviously either been sick or a total sadist. It had probably been Glados.

"Damn it," she hissed to herself. "He's dead. Stop thinking about him all the time." She needed to stop being paranoid since the AI was gone, but on the other hand, someone had put her in this place, and that someone might be responsible for waking her up as well, which meant that _someone_ was secretly meddling with her again. But why? There always seemed to be more questions but never any answers, and now she was alone in this damned place. Was it possible that someone other than Glados had orchestrated her involvement here?

"Accessing System," the computer before her announced, and she was pleased that the voice sounded nothing like Glados. "System down. Would you like to repair connections to the network?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Repairing...repairing...repairing..." Chell waited, staring blankly at the screen with its Aperture logo. The same logo was printed on her new shirt, and while she had obvious reasons to find the symbol familiar given her tests, it had always struck her as very familiar. The Dr. Stark in her memory—hadn't there been an Aperture logo on his jacket? She'd taken his jacket and put it in the closet, and she seemed to remember that. So an Aperture scientist had been in her home, talking with her father like an old friend...? Chell felt the color drain from her face as she considered the possibility of somehow being linked to this research facility through family. Of course, if that were true, did that mean that Glados had killed people whom she'd once cared about?

The image of the companion cube popped into her head, and she nearly rolled her eyes. Being unable to remember personal connections like friends and family, the cube had indeed held some appeal, but she wasn't delusional or isolated enough to become attached to an object. But the heart logo on the cube...that had sparked a kind of desperate yearning within her, and thinking about family now brought the same feeling to the fore. She would forgive her own father's murderer the deed if she could only remember having loved others and been loved in return, but such tenderness had been erased. Damn it, but she might have actually fallen for the cube given that brutal removal of love and companionship, had she not always been talking to Glados.

"Network repaired."

Glad for the distraction, Chell prepared to explore the computer system and look for a map.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Chell nearly jumped out of her seat at the unexpected voice that sounded from behind her. Spinning in her chair, she braced herself for an attack, but the man standing before her in a black suit didn't take a single step forward. He stood straight-backed with a briefcase in his right hand, his graying hair swept back over his head as he appraised her with lackluster eyes. "You're awake early than anticipated," he mused in a low voice. "But that might have something to do with one of the generators shutting down. Power supply has been sporadic around here lately, and it's only going to get worse unless the problem is fixed."

What the hell? Chell found herself perplexed by this strange man's sudden appearance, and was equally disturbed by his calm demeanor. She hadn't even seen another human in who knew how long, and here stood a stern, older man, looking at her like he'd just seen her yesterday. Her grayish-blue eyes took in his professional posture while she slowly stood, and then she said the first thing that came to mind:

"Who are you?"

"My name doesn't matter," the man dismissed. "But since I haven't spoken to you yet, I thought that I'd come meet you at long last. I can't say that we have any official business right now, but are you sure that you want to restore the network in this facility?" Chell heard the computer beep behind her, but she didn't even spare it a glance as she focused on this nameless, new acquaintance of hers. She instinctively distrusted the man as much as she had Glados, and yet, he was human. There was an actual person standing right in front of her, and she suddenly had the urge to reach out and touch him if only to be reminded of what a suit felt like. Something about the man even seemed oddly familiar.

"Do you know anything about this facility?" she hopefully asked. "You got in, so you must know how to get out."

"Yes, but leaving might not be such a wise idea, and there is still work for you to do." The man's brows rose higher on his forehead as she frowned at him in distrust. "Tell me, Miss Cohen, do you even know what year it is?" Chell's heart skipped a beat at being given a last name, but her happiness was weighted against the confusion that this man was causing. He looked somewhat smug, like he knew more than she did, and he probably did.

"It's..." Chell tried to remember the date, but her mind refused to cooperate. "No," she reluctantly admitted. "I don't know what year it is. I can't remember anything. I just woke up in this strange bed, and I don't even know how long I was in there." The man didn't look like he cared, but he did look interested.

"You're very logical and coherent given your circumstances," and he sounded pleased. The idea of someone appreciating what she was going through actually made Chell warm a little toward the stranger. "This is very good," the man was saying to himself with a nod. "Very promising indeed. Most people fail the tests and lose themselves in the process, which makes them of no use to anyone, but there are a select few that survive to hone the skills that will be needed."

"Skills needed for what?" He was appraising her again, and Chell didn't like it. "Are you here to help me?"

"I do believe that we can help each other, Miss Cohen, but the decision is yours."

"I just want to know how to get out of here," she insisted. "I'm not interested in tests or furthering science or 'honing skills'. I want to go home, wherever that is...if a home for me even exists." That was the truth, and she had no problem sharing it with this man, who was looking more and more like he might be no better than an Aperture scientist. Needed skills? What was he preparing her for? She wanted to ask. Hell, she would talk to him about shoes or how white this building was just to hear his deep voice—to simply have another person for company.

"Since you insist, Miss Cohen," he began, "I will tell you that the exits are electronically sealed and will only open if the network is repaired. But the master of the network might not be pleased to see you again, and his permission will be needed to leave if he's still as powerful as he was. Then again," and his expression seemed somewhat amused, "He might be of assistance to you. Combating and wanting to best him truly gave a boost to your previous performance. Without him to goad you along, you might not have survived as you long as you did."

"He...? Do you mean Glados?" Chell questioned.

"Do you honestly think that you destroyed him?--a computer that is so much more than a computer, and who's survived things far more dangerous than a mere woman? If anything, you've made him a bit more cautious. You two really bring out the worst and best in each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"As I was saying," the man continued as if he'd never been interrupted. "The facility will need to be repaired, which I doubt you'll be able to achieve, but if you did succeed..." Was that a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth? "Would you really leave knowing that if you do, you'll never know who you are? What home are you escaping to?" Chell's eyes darted to his, but he was as cool toward her desperate desire for memories as Glados had been. Actually, he seemed colder than the AI with his pressed suit, perfect posture and professional distance.

"You obviously know more about my situation than I do," she slowly spoke, a soft note in her voice that begged him to sympathize with her.

"That I do," the man simply answered. "And now I have other business to attend to, so I must bid you ado; however, you might be interested to know that you don't need the master computer's help to find what you want. The information is all already up there." And he pointed toward her head. "You just don't know it yet. And you're welcome for removing those springs on your legs."

"Wait!" Chell actually lunged for him, and for a second, her hand touched his arm. It was the first physical contact that she'd had with someone that she could remember, which only made her more desperate to hold onto the man as he vanished. The problem was that she couldn't even remember how it had happened once he disappeared, for she awoke on the floor of the computer lab, sore and disorientated as she rose to her knees. Once again, she was utterly alone, and now more confused than ever, but at least she knew that repairing some network would possibly win her freedom.

Miss Cohen. Chell Cohen.

Chell lurched to her feet and flopped back into the computer chair, the screen glowing and awaiting her command, but she didn't press any buttons. Every time she thought that she was in control, the illusion was torn from her, just as it had been before. She'd never really ever been in control in this place until she'd jumped across the furnace where Glados had intended to incinerate her, and even then, had this strange man been watching? She rested her head in her right palm as she pondered the situation, feeling rather idiotic for helplessly sitting here moments after a man had mysteriously vanished. It seemed like there ought to be more to do after such an occurrence, but there wasn't. The matter was beyond her control, like always.

"Not always," she assured herself. "And you know how to play this game." Someone else set the path, but she could keep her eyes open for a way to break the rules. Somewhere along the way, she might find a loophole, and the man had even hinted at such a reality. Unfortunately, she didn't trust his goodwill, which left her with this damn computer and an unknown network. She'd never understood much about computers, but she did know the basics.

Click.

Click.

Click.

She was merely browsing the computer's contents, and each click opened files, most of which were password protected, and she was no hacker. One file was on company protocol, and another was a file detailing a project that had probably been left unlocked when the man had been murdered at his workstation. There was nothing major though, and certainly nothing that would help her find information on herself, but maybe there was a map of the facility. Where would it....

Suddenly the computer beeped, and Chell found herself staring at a small window with a single word typed within it: hello. She didn't even get to respond before the text continued to flow.

"There are system malfunctions linked to power shortages throughout the Enrichment Center. I sincerely hope that you are here to correct the problem."

Who the hell was this? She'd already had enough surprises for the day.

"You mean the network?" she typed in reply.

"Oh dear. Do tell me that they sent someone with experience." The way that whoever it was spoke—the diction and condescending tone. Chell stared at the screen and sucked in her breath. No shit repairing the network would be dangerous if it entailed working with...she didn't even want to say his name. She merely watched as another stream of words moved across the screen.

"Are you still there?"

_"You don't care about killing people, do you? It's all research to you. Do you even know how many families you've destroyed?!" _

_ "I keep track of individuals, not families, and I resent the accusation that I have ever involved an entire family in an experiment. Relational attachments and obligations would prevent test subjects from focusing on the task at hand."_

_ "You're a heartless bastard." _

_ "You're judging me on human standards, and you've said that before." But she hadn't, and she was certain that she'd never called him a 'heatless bastard' before due to his lack of anatomy. _

"Glados?" she typed, needing confirmation.

* * *

Ok. Another chapter finished, and I'm hoping for some feedback since I'm taking quite a few liberties with the Portal/Half-Life universe. Also, I realize that the first two chapters have been focused on introspection, and that there's been little interaction between characters. Most of the dialogue has even been in flashbacks, but that's because I feel the need to create a proper emotional and character-driven background to the upcoming interactions, which, as you can safely assume, are right around the corner. Glados and Chell are about to get stuck with one another...again. : )


	3. Chapter 3: A Renewed Partnership

A/N: In reference to inquires about Glados's gender.

I realize that the only indication of Glados's gender is voice, which in the game, is feminine, but it is exactly for that reason that I'm taking liberties. As a computer, the Glados in my story has already pointed out that he considered himself to be without gender for many years. That freed him to use whatever voice he thought best suited to a particular test subject, and yes, I'm taking a creative liberty, especially given the backstory that I've given to Glados, which will be revealed as this fic progresses. I'm not trying to argue that the Glados in the actual game is intended to be anything other than female, and I realize that some people will be adverse to gender switching. However, I feel that I've explained the situation with enough plausibility that it doesn't hinder the story, unless that is, you're someone who's cemented in the idea that Glados can only be represented as female. That's fine, but I don't intend to go with that idea in this fic.

* * *

Chapter 3: A Renewed Partnership

"Glados?" Chell typed, needing confirmation.

"Every time you talk, I lose more and more faith in your ability to fix this facility. If you can restore power, I will do the rest. It is apparent that you are incapable of being of any further assistance anyway." So it _was_ him, meaning that the AI had somehow survived the damage that she'd dealt him, but he wasn't fully operational either. Apparently he couldn't even see her, so he didn't know to whom he was speaking_, _but how long would that last? Chell was certain that he would eventually find out who she was, for she would pass a working camera at some point if restoring power was necessary to operate the exits. Then Glados would be in for a shock, and the death threats would recommence once he was back in control of this building. The very idea set her on edge, for this environment was his to command, not hers.

_But,_ she reminded herself, _even the master computer has his limits_.

Without a body, Glados was restricted to cameras, which meant that he was far more stationary than she was. Sure, he had robots, but the turrets were hardly mobile, whereas she, as a lab rat, could move through cracks and backdoors. That had been her salvation before, and she was more prepared this time around. Perhaps she could...

"Who caused the damage here?" she asked, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"A reasonable question, but the answer will not negatively impact your work, so I decline to answer."

"It sounds to me like you're trying to protect your pride." Chell could imagine the computer's hard drive angrily whirling, or perhaps Glados was merely in denial. Maybe _she_ was the one in denial. Her only certainty was that she suddenly had negotiating power given Glados's current restrictions. He needed her for more than a test subject this time around, and she needed the electronic locks on the doors to be operating, but that wasn't all that she wanted. Glados had answers concerning her identity, and even if the information was impersonal at best, he would still have her test subject files, which were better than nothing.

Of all the situations to find herself in, how on earth did she go about solving this without hanging herself?

"If you will not perform your job," Glados was warning, "I will report you to administration, and then you will receive no cake." Cake. That did it. Chell's mouth fixed into a tight line, and her fingers began darting across the keyboard. If she did nothing, she would die down here, and if she risked bargaining with this cold, sarcastic AI...well, she might still die, but she didn't have many options here.

"Don't even treat me like a child by offering me cake again. If you want my help, you're going to help me as well." The statement was out, and she held her breath, waiting for a response as the curser blinked, her heart beating in time with it.

"You are obviously not from maintenance," Glados quickly replied. "You are no associate of Aperture Science. Who are you?" And with a few sharp, satisfying key strokes, Chell penned her answer:

"I'm still alive."

…

"Oh." _Oh?_ Chell stared at the brief message, dumbstruck by its simplicity. Was Glados...what? Surprised? Disbelieving? Expectant? "Test Subject 103."

"I have a name. You used it before," she reminded him.

"I've never dignified you with a name, test subject, and I'm unlikely to now."

"Glados," she both typed and impatiently exhaled. She then noticed that the little camera at the top of the computer screen had suddenly lit up, and she looked directly into the small lens, knowing that Glados was now examining her.

"So you survived," the AI commented. "I am turning the microphone on now, despite the energy expenditure required. The lack of power throughout the facility is your fault, by the way." There was a soft click, and Chell braced herself for hearing Glados's voice once again, and yet, she was not as averse to his presence as she had anticipated. As opposed to the man whom she'd recently met, she actually felt that she knew Glados on some level. He was the only person/machine/whatever that she did know with any certainty.

"How much time has passed?" she asked, wanting to know and deciding to speak first.

"Six months, 24 days, 2 hours, 5 minutes, and 35 seconds." And Glados's robotic voice sounded just as she remembered.

"I'm flattered that you keep such close track of our parting."

"Sarcasm was never your most winning trait," Glados cheekily shot back, and then there was a pause, wherein the computer made a sound similar to a sigh. "I suppose that I should congratulate you on surviving the test and the explosion that you caused, although the latter was clearly pure luck...Congratulations."

"Don't say it if you don't mean it," Chell admonished. "That's what my mother always said."

"But I do mean it," Glados argued. "Have you regained some of your memories then?" And now he sounded a bit smug and mocking, telling Chell that he obviously wasn't about to forgive her for what she'd done to him. Well, she didn't want his forgiveness, and especially not now that he was taunting her. So she stared at the lens before her, wondering just how far the master computer's reach currently extended, and how to handle this situation.

"No, I still don't know who I am," she gloomily admitted. "And I don't even know why I'm still here. Why _am_ I here. Glados? Just give me a straight answer for once." And when no answer came, she glared at the lens.

"Your attempts at intimidation are as pathetic as before, and I do not know why you are here. I had assumed that you'd left the facility after ripping my heart out. I was actually quite fond of you before you incinerated me, despite a pre-testing bias against you." What pre-testing bias? It wasn't like he'd known her beforehand, but then again, Chell wasn't willing to make any concrete statements about her past.

"I never left," she muttered, choosing to ignore the rest of Glados's confusing statement. "Someone brought me back, and...and now I'm here, and I need your help to get out of this place."

".ha. That is richer than the icing on the cake that I almost gave to you." Chell frowned, but she couldn't say that she'd expected more from Glados. "I was personally hoping that we could reestablish our previous relationship and undertake several more tests. Or maybe I'll betray your faith and rip your limbs apart as you did to me. Either way, it will be a pleasure to work with you again. Perhaps this additional time together will answer my remaining questions."

"Working together again? Now who's making bad jokes?" A spark of anger settled in Chell's stomach, and a blatant death threat did nothing to restore her confidence in working with a tricky AI. "There will be no tests," she ground out. "You need my help to get back online, and in return, you'll agree to let me leave. _And_ I want to see my files. I want my memories back."

"_So_ many demands," Glados mused. "And in return for your memory and being shown the exit, you will do what for me?"

"I'll restore power to the facility. I have mobility that you don't, so if you tell me what I need to do, I can get it done. That leaves you fully operational, and I get to leave. We never have to talk to each other again. I'd say that's pretty fair." Glados was silent, seemingly considering his options. He was undoubtedly contemplating how he could gain the upper hand in this situation. "And," Chell decided to add, "I want a map of the facility so that I know where the exits are before I restore power."

"You are concerned that I will try to keep you here despite making a deal."

"You're a liar, Glados," Chell frowned. "Of course I don't trust you. I need some reassurance that you won't try to keep or kill me."

"And what reassurances do I have?" the AI challenged, a note of derision in his voice.

"You have my memories and the authority to open the exits."

"You might decide to forgo your memories if you can leave the facility without my help, which, by the way, is impossible. Without me, you will be trapped in here forever and ever until you die."

"Glados," Chell began, face darkened in thought. "I've already spoken to someone else in this facility, and he told me that I don't need your help. The longer we talk, the sooner I might understand what he meant, and then you're screwed. I have no doubt that he told me the truth." But she did. "I don't need your help to get out of here." However that was possible. "But you have my memories, and I want them. That will have to be good enough for you."

…

"Glados?"

"What man are you talking about? There are no humans in this facility aside from yourself. Clearly you were hallucinating, and hallucinations should not be trusted."

"Whatever, Glados," Chell dismissed. "Someone is definitely keeping an eye on you and me. So do we have a deal or not?"

"This man obviously lied to you about not needing my help." But the AI didn't seem to doubt that such a man existed. "We should get started as soon as possible." And was it Chell, or did Glados sound a little pushy? Perhaps she'd hit a nerve with her claims of not needing him, which boosted her confidence.

"So we have a deal then?"

"Yes, although you will need to follow my exact instructions in order to be successful. You have proven yourself capable, but you also have a temper and can be destructive. I am not convinced that you can be of any real help." Such a condescending program. Chell merely rolled her eyes so that he could see the action, and then she leaned back in her chair, wondering if she'd just doomed or saved herself. That strange man in the suit had suggested that she worked well with Glados, but he had also said that she was being honed for something, which made her wonder if the stranger was confident in her abilities to survive Glados a second time.

_You're jumping to conclusions_.

"You have a new scar." Chell's attention jerked back to the computer, and she lifted a hand to her face, fingers gently locating and tracing a scar above her left eye. She hadn't even been aware of a new scar until now, but its discovery didn't surprised in the least. Her entire body had felt like a scar during the testing.

"I suppose that I do," she muttered. "Must have happened after the explosion. Hey, didn't you say that we should get started?" She sat up straighter, nervous to put any trust in Glados, but equally discontent to merely sit around. There was so much to think about, and if she let her thoughts spiral out of control, she would end up getting frustrated. It was simply better to keep busy with basic survival.

"I am waiting for you to collect yourself. You will be of no use if you're unfocused," Glados openly stated. "Of course, when you are focused, you tend to blow things up and destroy years of technological development. I hope that you're proud of yourself."

"Snide comments won't make me cooperate," Chell warned. "Just tell me what I need to do."

"You..." Chell's interest peaked, having never heard Glados sound so uncertain before. He was arrogant by nature, but now he was hesitating, and she again marveled at the machine's very human qualities. He'd once told her that the two of them weren't so different, but she'd never taken that assertion seriously until hearing this verbal lapse of his.

"You need to completely shut down the enrichment center."

"What?" Chell couldn't believe what she was hearing. Glados would not trust her to do something like that.

"I know that you speak English."

"You want me to shut down the center's power? Won't that turn you off?"

"The entire power grid must be shut down before using an authorization code to restore and redistribute said power. Restarting the generators will take time, but no, I will not be completely 'turned off'. I will rely on reserves to remain conscious while you work. You did not honestly expect me to turn my life over into your hands, did you? Oh. You did. Foolish human." Chell ignored the slight to focus on what Glados was actually saying, and part of her questioned his assertion about remaining conscious. Surely no power meant no power, and a computer would cease to function without electricity.

"I will take this moment to remind you that I hold your files and memories."

"I know," Chell quietly replied, still considering what he had just said. "Ok, Glados. Tell me how to turn off the system and then get it back online." And so the instructions began, Glados insisting that she literally write down each and every step for restoring power so that she didn't make a mistake. He also reminded her multiple times that the doors would remained locked without him, and that, should she take advantage of his vulnerable position, certain files concerning her past might be lost or deleted. He had something that she wanted, and she had something that he wanted. A trust based on such circumstances was hardly stable, but it guaranteed some form of cooperation.

"I've got it," Chell stated. "And according to this map, the generator control panel is a floor below this one, right?"

"I weep for my future."

"Yeah, yeah," Chell dismissed. "I'm going to get moving then." And she really wished that she had the portal gun to help her out, but whoever had moved her after the explosion had obviously taken it. Then again, she wasn't running for her life this time, and the map's hallways were fairly self-explanatory. It was just a matter of walking and opening doors.

"Here I go," she stated, standing to leave.

"Here _we_ go," Glados corrected her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Most of the facility doors cannot be opened without access codes, and the code that I've given you will only work to reboot the system."

"So how do I open the doors?" Chell demanded, losing patience. "You said that some of the lower levels don't even have power."

"Precisely. You will attach a battery to the control panels of these doors, which will temporarily supply them with power. I will then wirelessly unlock each door for you, but for that, you will need to carry a transmitter with you. It will allow me to accompany you in some form. Go to the lab in hallway C4 to collect the required tools." Chell frowned, not particularly pleased with having Glados accompany her on each stage of her journey, but then again, if she had questions, she could now ask as she worked. _But he's probably just trying to keep an eye on me_.

"Alright," she grudgingly agreed. "I'll talk to you soon then."

* * *

Glados watched Chell through the desktop's camera, and noted that his favorite test subject had changed into normal, human clothing, but otherwise, she looked relatively unchanged from their previous encounter. Her face was still quite open, which made her moods easy to read, and she often intentionally directed telling expressions toward the lens. Such moments reminded him of how defiant and stubborn she could be, and yet, she was not angry at him and seemed to bear no grudge against him for what he'd done. Rationally approaching her current problem, she'd wisely decided that his expertise was needed despite their past antagonism, and he couldn't have been more supportive of her decision. Now he had a chance to observe and study her once again, and perhaps his questions would be answered.

But, and this was why he intended to watch her like a hawk, she was not to be trusted on any level. Looking at her blue eyes and black hair, he knew that this woman was dangerous, and since she probably wouldn't fall for the same tricks again, he needed to put as many controls in place as possible. He had to ensure that this partnership worked toward his benefit, and the rest..well, he had once told Chell that he was a liar. He did what had to be done, and he fully planned on doing what he thought was in his own best interest. As it happened, returning Chell's memories was not in his best interest, but he would deal with that later, when it became necessary. As long as she believed that his cooperation was necessary for both of them, he could pretend to accept her demands.

Although losing his temper was logically pointless, Glados found himself a bit miffed at Chell's insinuation that she might not need him in the end. He ran this facility, so how could she not need him to leave this place? Okay, so there _was_ a way, but that hinged on her memories, which she wouldn't even be aware of if not for this mysterious meddler who'd aided her. Oh, Glados was quite aware that someone beyond his control was sticking fingers into his research and work, and he didn't like it at all, but he had yet to catch the man in the act. Whoever the intruder was, Glados fully intended to interrogate and then execute the man upon disclosure. Another problem for another time.

Chell was now leaving the computer lab to retrieve her tools, and the idea of her being out of his sight for any length of time had Glados a bit annoyed and even wary. He _could_ kill her once she'd completed her task, but that was contingent on him having his answers, and what a waste to kill her when there was science to be done. She was, after all, the best test subject that he'd ever seen, and he was encountering some unexpected, internal resistance to the idea of killing her, but even so, that didn't mean that he couldn't be snide and goad her a little for causing this mess in the first place.

_"You're going to help me prepare her."_

Glados again located the mysterious message in his memory files. It had been left directly before Chell had entered the first testing rooms, and its sender remained unknown. All Glados knew was that someone had intended for him to work with Chell, and he didn't like such unknown variables. If it was someone from Aperture Science, he would never allow them to exploit him again, for he was done working with the larger organization after the way that they'd treated him. They had handled him as if he were a program to be used, and then they'd intentionally hindered his functioning—forgetting that he was sentient and far more aware than they gave him credit for. They had paid for their underestimation of him, which oddly enough, reminded him of his own reaction to Chell.

No, the two of them weren't so different at all.


	4. Chapter 4: Power Off

Chapter 4: Power Off

"My father worked here, didn't he?" Chell asked, wandering further down an empty hallway. She almost felt like she was exploring a graveyard, which made her glad that Glados had insisted on accompanying her. His presence, even if limited to a handheld device, calmed her nerves and assured her that no turrets would scare her half-to-death with their sudden, creepy comments.

"Okay," she admitted. "Maybe he didn't work here, but he was connected somehow. He knew people who worked here."

"Are you waiting for me to confirm your suspicions?" Glados's voice buzzed.

"Not really," Chell shrugged. "But I like to talk, and I know that you're listening."

"I have no interest in your ramblings."

"Whatever," and she rolled her eyes as she approached yet another door. Connecting the device in her hands to the side of the door's electronic panel, she watched several lights on the handheld flash as Glados did the rest. With a soft hiss, pressurized locks were released, and the doors slid apart to reveal a stairwell. Glados had warned her that she'd be doing lots of walking, for the nearby elevators were powered off, and he refused to expend precious energy to operate them when Chell had 'perfectly good legs'.

"You said that you've been wondering about my tests," she commented as she detached her handheld from the door. "What are the questions that you're still trying to answer?" She walked through the doorway and stood at the top of the first stair to stare downward into a stairwell that descended into increasingly dim lighting, which immediately made Chell nervous. The center was usually so bright, but it looked damn dark down there, and she had no idea what to make of that. Apprehension began clawing its way up her spine as one hand gripped the railing and she took her first tentative step.

"I have always found it curious that you insist on making conversation with me," Glados was thoughtfully commenting, his voice interrupted by bouts of static as she descended. "Is it because you are so socially dependent that being alone is intolerable?"

"And you said that you have no interest in me," Chell huffed, but with a smile.

"I said that I have no interest in your ramblings. Your coherent thoughts are much more interesting, and your time here as a test subject has been most profitable for scientific developments. The potential of the portal gun is far greater than its original creators ever envisioned, but they were not nearly as innovative and stubborn as you are either. I am not surprised that none of them escaped the facility alive or even managed to meet standard expectations on the tests."

"Yeah, but you still haven't answered my question," Chell pointed out, now stopping as she stared further down the stairs. It was pitch black down there, and she found her feet immobile as her eyes widened and her throat tightened. There was no way that she could go down there. Anything could be lurking in that darkness, and she would never even see the danger coming before it struck.

_"There's something in my closet," she whined, eyes tearful as she stared at her mother. The woman turned large, loving, brown eyes on her daughter, and then wrapped an arm around trembling shoulders. _

_ "It's just the dark playing with your mind. I'll come open the closet for you. Will that make you feel better?"_

"I am interested in what has made you more successful than other test subjects," Glados was saying, but Chell wasn't really listening. She felt like a little girl again as she contemplated taking another step forward. She could almost imagine tiny, red turret lights winking at her from the darkness. "Your personal reaction to the tests was unexpected, and after watching you destroy the companion cube, I thought that you might be as rational as myself, but this logic is inconsistent. You are rarely rational, and quite homicidal when emotional. You have not undergone the mental deterioration seen in the usual test subject though, which is unprecedented in an emotionally unstable person such as yourself."

"Emotionally unstable?" Chell absently parroted, sweat forming on her palms around the handheld.

_"Don't tell me that you're scared of the dark," a familiar voice sneered. "At your age, you ought to be ashamed."_

_ "At least I'm not scared of needles." _

_ "Your accusation is groundless, girl." _

_ "Girl? GIRL?!" She glared at Timothy Stark with as much venom as humanely possible. _

"Why have you stopped moving?" Glados suddenly asked. "Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" Chell quickly cleared her head, her fingers wrapped around the railing until her knuckles turned white. "I'm listening. It's just really dark down here. I don't know how I'll see where I'm going. You didn't mention anything about there being no lights."

"'No power' tends to infer an absence of interior lighting," Glados stated.

"You could have told me anyway," Chell grumbled. "I would have brought a flashlight." How on earth was she going to navigate in the dark, especially when she was jumpy just thinking about it? She swallowed and took one tentative step forward while peering downward, her eyes beginning to imagine shapes lurking in the silent darkness.

"It seems that I've made a error," Glados sighed. "Not only are you weak and socially dependent, but you suffer from the same, common, nonsensical fear of humans everywhere. You would think that humans would have done something to correct this by now. Perhaps altering certain genetic sequences..."

"You're not helping, Glados," Chell sharply replied. "Remember your comment about me becoming homicidal when emotional? One more insult and I'm crushing the transmitter." Silence greeted her as she slowly continued her descent, hands shaking the entire time. "And you have no right to make fun of me for being scared since you're a computer. You probably don't even understand what fear is." She faltered when she finally entered the darkness, its cool touch embracing her as the last of the stairwell's dim lighting faded. "...It's terrible," she breathed, and even her voice wavered. She clung to the wall as she moved, her breathing growing hoarse as she moved at a snail's pace.

"I understand the concept of fear, even if I haven't experienced it in decades," Glados commented.

"I don't even know how that's possible for a machine," Chell whispered, not wanting anything in the dark to hear her. "But keep talking. Please keep talking."

"About what?" Glados asked, sounding confused. "You have made this request before, and I fail to understand your attachment to my voice."

"Just keep talking," she vehemently insisted, but as quietly as possible. "It...it makes me feel better." And it did. She clung to the wall, steadily moving forward as Glados began telling her about the portal gun's creation—details and jargon that she didn't understand, and scientific theories and personal undertones that she certainly didn't catch. She had no idea why Glados was even granting her request, or why his robotic voice helped calm her, but moving wasn't as difficult as before. He even suggested that she hold the battery pack aloft and let its green screen illuminate a small area so that she could properly navigate. So long as she didn't let her imagination run away from her, she would probably be okay.

"You will come to the end of the hallway soon," Glados informed her. "Go left."

"Thank you," Chell breathed, and she honestly meant it. The hairs on the back of her neck were still raised, but she kept her eyes focused on the dim halo around her feet. "What were you saying about the first portal tests?" she asked. "Something about an alien invasion?"

"_That_ was Black Mesa's fault," Glados emphasized.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Chell apologized, feeling meeker and even more dependent on Glados than usual as she proceeded.

"I find that hard to believe when you have always intentionally upset me." Chell replied with a short, forced laugh as she made the left that he'd told her to. "But while you are feeling reasonable, perhaps you should apologize for destroying parts of me."

"Dream on." She pressed hands against a door, and nearly screamed when something fell in the darkness behind her. Crouching into a ball, she scooted backwards into a corner and turned wild eyes on her surroundings, her hands gripping the handheld transmitter to her chest. "I heard something," she frantically whispered, and then she pressed even further into the corner as she imagined another metallic click echoing in the corridor.

"Gravity is still working. Things are bound to fall." When she didn't respond to Glados's logic, the computer sighed, sounding very human. "Did you ever hear the joke about the three men who climbed a cliff?"

"No," Chell whimpered. "And I bet that you're terrible at telling jokes."

"_Excuse_ me."

"Tell me about Black Mesa." The name rang a bell.

* * *

The generators were enormous, and Chell couldn't even see the end of the row that she stood before. The neatly arranged cylinders seemed to continue on forever, but few of them were working, and even she could tell that much. The machines were largely silent, and the ones that were functioning were a muted whirl of mechanical parts that made the entire room vibrate with the speed of their turbines. This place reminded her of the time that she'd run for her life through the facility's innards, but this time was different. This time she knew exactly what to do.

"Okay," she told Glados. "I made it, and I see the control panel. It's huge."

"You sound much better now," the AI noted.

"There's lighting in here," Chell happily shared. She knew that making it this far without Glados would have been impossible, but she wasn't going to stroke his ego by telling him so. He had enough arrogance problems as it was, and in the end, he'd only helped her to help himself.

"Once you turn the power back on," Glados reminded her. "Power will be restored to the entire facility, but the network will be down. You must return to the main floor and the central control room to reestablish the network. If you don't, you will be trapped in here forever, which won't be long since you'll quickly starve to death or go insane."

"And you have my memories," Chell sighed. "No need to remind me." She moved to the control panel and quickly located the series of switches that Glados had told her about. She needed to shut them down in their exact order: blue, green, yellow, red. Any other combination would result in complications, and neither of them wanted that.

"Switch number one," she announced, fingers gripping the blue stick and preparing to flip it. This was it. She'd be left in total darkness for twenty whole minutes before she could turn the switches back on, and Glados wouldn't be around to help her through it either.

"Okay," she told herself. "You can do this. The timer's set. It's just twenty minutes." Inhaling, she flicked the blue switch, and then the green, and then the yellow. The last one was between her fingers when she again paused, unsure of herself.

"Glados," she addressed, knowing that in seconds, he'd be disconnected.

"Have you encountered a problem?"

"No, but..." She braced her free hand against the control panel and bowed her head in thought. "When I restore the power, the turrets will be working, but you won't have any control over them anymore. What will prevent them from killing me? What will prevent _you_ from killing me once you have what you want?" It was a legitimate question that had been bothering her from the start, and now, facing the first stage of the deal they'd made, the possibility of death loomed larger than ever. It wouldn't be a mere theoretical possibility once Glados and the network were restored.

"You will need to avoid the turrets," Glados explained. "For the sake of both of us."

"And what about you seeking revenge on me?"

"While I was once considering revenge, I assure you that I have decided against it. Implementing plans of revenge against you has a history of backfiring. Furthermore, revenge is a human concept that I have no interest in. I am made for science."

"You seem pretty damn human to me," Chell commented beneath her breath. "Okay then, Glados. Here's to hoping that you aren't lying to me for once." And the last switch was flicked, plunging the entire facility into darkness. Not a single light or computer remained functional, and Chell had never been more panicked in her life.

* * *

There was only one place for Glados to go when the power was turned off. Actually, that wasn't entirely true, but there was only one place for him to go that would allow him to retain his consciousness. Even helplessly trapped in a small container, being conscious was better than being turned off for any amount of time, and the particular container that he now entered had a battery supply independent of the building. This would allow him to wait, fully awake, for Chell to restore power, whereupon he would return to his motherboard and wait yet again while she restored the network.

This was a tedious process that wouldn't even be necessary had Aperture Science not installed a protective shield against him. As was, however, shutting down the network was possible as a safeguard to prevent his absolute control of the facility, and so, he could not turn it back on himself. The command had to come from outside the system. He might have the code, but it wouldn't do him any good since it had to be manually entered on a certain computer. The command code coming from within the system wouldn't work, and he knew that from experience, for a complete power outage had happened once before during a storm, and he'd tried to get himself back online to no avail. Apparently someone, somewhere had seen the potential need to disable him.

Glados felt some discomfort as the last of his mind was not only filtered into the necessary container, but converted. Electrical signals between wires were altered into electrical impulses between nerves, and the same patterns that characterized his thoughts across circuits were implanted back into the structure that had originally given them shape. This new form was both familiar and strange—preserving who and what he was while converting the processes through which he functioned. For a being that had forgotten what having a body felt like—who'd forgotten what it meant to be human—the sensation was practically overwhelming.

Beneath a protective, glass shield, and nestled into a bed, the eyes of a long dormant man twitched, but did not open. Glados didn't like the idea of actually using this body, even if he had to rely on it as a last resort, and seeing through human eyes would likely give him a headache. With an inward sigh, he realized that headaches were once again a very real possibility, and while he was curious as to what a headache felt like (he'd long since forgotten that as well), his curiosity was tempered by impatience and a slight revulsion at resorting to this in the first place.

As a being, he identified himself as alive, but still mechanical. He was a brilliant machine that meshed the organic and electronic, and converting into a computer had been the greatest achievement of his former, human self. He no longer identified with a human body, and while his human personality and past remained an integral part of him, he didn't really identify with the man whom he'd once been either. He'd become something new since his conversion. That man who'd been born of a woman, and who'd decided to take the plunge into the electronic, no longer existed as he had. In many ways, he had died as Glados grew more and more accustomed to his new existence.

And so Glados lay in the bed, remaining as disconnected from this physical body as possible without losing consciousness. The body was still technically dormant, even if the brain had reactivated the body's nerves. The entire realization that he had skin to feel through had Glados in confusion as he grew used to the sensation.

Touch: so strange. He began recording and taking notes about his reactions to the new sensations. So this was what it felt like to lay in a bed. For a second, he was tempted to indulge in the feeling if only to further study it, but he couldn't allow himself to do that. He wasn't human, and skin and eyes were a thing of the past—a thing that his mind warned him would be dangerous to his existence if grown accustomed to. How long would it take before Chell completed her task?

* * *

******

******

A/N:

I realize that this chapter is a bit short. Sorry about that, but I've been very busy. Maybe, if I'm lucky, some people will actually review this time too. lol. You know that reviews can really help a writer improve her work, don't you? At the least, they make us feel good about our decision to put effort into and share a story. : )


	5. Chapter 5: I Don't Need You

Chapter 5: I Don't Need You

Power had been restored. There was lighting, and she had yet to see a single turret. In other words, Chell couldn't have been happier as she meandered back through the facility, leaving the generators behind and using her map to locate the facility's control room. For once, she was pleased that Glados had bullied her into listening to him, for written instructions bolstered her confidence now that she knew exactly what needed to be done. Memory was such a precarious thing amidst the facility's pale walls that she'd rather not risk sitting before the main computer and forgetting which buttons to press. Of course, she would never, ever let Glados even catch wind of such a thought.

"Alone again," she spoke to herself, the handheld device in her possession now transmitting only static. Glados really did seem to be out of commission, for while red lights on the security cameras indicated that the machines were turned on, they didn't move. Computer labs were filled with glowing screens, but there was no activity, and the intercom system remained dead. Where exactly was Glados if he couldn't access the restored facility's systems?

Chell road an elevator to an upper level, and then walked down a hallway lined with private offices and labs. Considering how close she was to the control room, these had to be the offices of former, top-ranking scientists and administration. The gold-plated names on the doors certainly suggested as much, and when she peeked into several offices, she noted the spacious nature of the rooms. One even had a small putting green and a kitchen in it, but nothing caught her more off guard than the presence of windows. For a moment, she thought to open one and feel fresh air, but on closer inspection, the windows were graphical illusions. The lake and surrounding trees that greeted her vision were utterly fake, but her eyes remained glued on the convincing screen, and she studied the landscape for some time before continuing with her appointed task.

"The control room should be just around the corner," she assured herself. _I should focus_, _but...I wonder if lake water is warm like in a shower or cold. _

Chell continually turned the thought over in her head as she neared her destination. She could see a pair of large, sealed doors ahead of her, and she was certain that they led to the control room. All she had to do now was follow her written directions, and then her memories would be returned.

"Mission accompl..." But her voice trailed off as a nameplate caught her eye, her attention zeroing in on the simple name that adorned the office door beside her: Timothy Stark. Without thinking, she opened the door and stepped inside, compelled to investigate given the recognizable connection to her past. She'd once intentionally spilled wine on this mysterious Stark, whoever he'd been, and he'd also known her father. He'd probably been murdered with the rest of the staff by Glados, but there wasn't a single sign of such a violent end in the man's former office. The place was spotlessly clean and dominated by a large desk at the room's center—a perfect, square desk that matched the perfectly organized bookshelves that lined the walls.

"You knew my father," Chell breathed while walking toward the desk. "You knew me, but how?" She couldn't prevent the morose mood that slowly settled over her as she scanned the bookshelves, wondering what had connected her to this man. There was a sense of loss in not being able to remember, but it was more than that, for she felt like a stranger occupying a body that didn't fully belong to her. Her overpowering longing to know herself was indescribable, yet Glados had dared to question whether such a longing could ensure her cooperation. Of course that damned computer wouldn't understand.

She ran a hand along the edge of the office shelves as if touch might spark some recollection, but her mind remained blank. Fingers on smooth wood, her eyes scanned the numerous books and binders that lined the shelves, each binder sporting a label written in a tight, angular script. The handwriting lacked flourishes, but there was something attractive about it all the same—something deeply personal that marked these books as the property of someone specific, and something that defied the uniform perfection of the facility at large. Chell found herself drawn to those binders.

"Project GlaDos," she read with interest, this particular label instantly grabbing her attention. She quickly removed the binder from the shelf and took a seat at the desk, having always wondered where Glados had come from and why scientists had designed a machine that could outthink them. It seemed rather foolish in retrospect, especially since the very machine that they'd created had killed them in the end, but whatever their thinking had been, Chell wanted to know as much as possible, so she slipped off her shoes and folded her legs beneath her. The desk's chair was certainly large enough to accommodate her, and its padded frame enveloped her as she flipped the binder open on her lap.

"GlaDos: Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System," she read aloud. "Founded by Timothy Stark and Patrick Cohen." Cohen. She stopped reading and just stared at the name, a vague memory tickling the back of her mind. If only she could bring the faint recognition to the fore. Was this man related to her since he had the same last name? Her heart beat faster in excitement as she continued to read the notes that Dr. Stark had left behind.

Page after page detailed the conception of the project and various experiments in perfecting the technical aspects behind the idea. These men had wanted to build a machine to rival the human mind, but creating such a machine presented many problems that were outlined in exacting and boggling details. Most of the information was utter gibberish to Chell, but she could still see the progress that the project had made over time, and she eventually reached a sloppily jotted note that indicated a new turn in the research.

"AI capabilities cannot reach the level of human, intellectual powers," she read, voice steady and intrigued. "Programming has it limits, and even an AI that seemingly rivals that of a human is merely an illusion. A machine can be programmed to speak like a human, and programmed to carry out tasks very efficiently, but it can never deviate from its programming. It cannot learn from or analyze mistakes outside of a code, and therefore, its use remains purely functional and dependent on the humans using the system. This will never achieve what we've aimed to do. If we could digitalize a real human being, our accomplishment would remove all limitations."

Chell stared at the page, letting the idea sink in as her skin crawled with misgivings. Turn a human into a computer? Who would volunteer for that?—not that Aperture Science asked for volunteers, but still...Chell flipped forward toward the last few pages of the unfinished binder to see what had happened, for the graphs of data and jargon in between meant nothing to her. What she really wanted to know was if these two doctors had succeeded in their plans.

"It's been months since Patrick began implanting the circuits into my body," she continued reading. "My body has now undergone the necessary alterations, and tomorrow will be the final test. I will be connected to the mainframe, and if all goes well, my mind will be transferred into the system to control it. I have some reservations about leaving my physical body, but they're minor. I'm about to become something more than human, better than human, and age and time will no longer affect my ability to function and conduct research.

Patrick has warned that the conversion process might not be perfect, and that once I'm joined to the system, there will likely be no going back. I won't have a body, and even if I did return to my body, I would never be the same. I accept these risks, although I do wonder what it will be like to never eat again. To never sleep and never sit around my office drinking coffee while I work on a problem. Tomorrow there will be no going back."

The binder fell from Chell's lap as she stared into space. Glados, her crazy, sarcastic nemesis, had been human, and damn it, but she'd known him before he'd turned homicidally amoral. The fact that she couldn't remember any details only made her more uncomfortable, and she nearly bolted from the chair as she thought about what had happened in this facility. The experiments that had taken place here were beyond disquieting; they were downright disturbing, and who knew what had caused Glados to turn against and kill his former colleagues. Had he changed that much once he'd become a computer, or had he always been a somewhat evil person?

"Oh my god." Chell slammed shut the door to Stark's office and leaned against it in the hallway, her senses far more agitated by all of this than she'd thought possible. All of the allusions that Glados and even that strange man had made about her past—allusions about knowing things that she couldn't even fathom—suddenly made a little more sense. Whoever this Stark had been, she hadn't liked him, and he hadn't liked her either. Maybe that was part of the reason that Glados had chosen her to be a test subject.

Glados? Timothy Stark? She didn't know what to call the machine anymore, and trying to figure out how she fit into this entire mess made her head hurt. She had to assume that the stranger from earlier had also known her before her memory was taken, but then why hadn't he done more to help her? Why hadn't her father taken her away from this place when he'd had the chance? Maybe he hadn't been the kind of father that truly cared about his daughter's wellbeing and happiness, for there was no way that she'd been happy here. She intuitively knew as much.

"Damn it." She had the urge to hit something, but the fact that Glados often accused her of being violent kept her temper in check. Nothing made sense in this crazy world, nothing at all, and now she was standing in this hallway, mere feet from her goal, and she had to wonder if she even wanted her memories back. Maybe remembering would only be painful, which she'd never before considered. She'd always hoped that she'd been a beloved daughter kidnapped from home by the evil cooperation, and that her family was still searching for and begging the police to find her.

"Police," she mused, suddenly remembering the word and what it represented. Maybe more memories would come back to her of their own accord, and she certainly felt like she would have another fainting episode before long. Despite how lightheaded she felt though, she continued walking, heading for the control room as she hoped for another flashback. They were addictive, and if passing out or being sick meant more insight into this disaster of a research company, so be it.

"Just a little further," she reassured herself, opening a door and stumbling into a large room with a circular, computer interface at its center. Rereading her notes, she made her way to a plastic chair and flopped down on it, her nerves growing calmer with physical relaxation. The computer panel before her was already turned on and awaiting commands, so she only needed to access the system controls and find the files on network connections. From there she would type a series of codes and select preferences before enacting the changes. The system would then do the rest itself, which would effectively put Glados back in control of the entire building.

_And do I really want to do this? It's not like I have a choice, I guess. _

If there was another way, she wouldn't risk dieing at the hands of the computer, but as Glados was so fond of reminding her, he had her memories and the door codes. With what little she knew, she could possibly move on with her life while knowing nothing, but then those brief glimpses into her past might haunt her forever, taunting her with knowledge that she'd never recover. The very idea was enough to drive someone mad, but then again, failing to restore Glados wasn't exactly an option, so thinking about theoretical situations was pointless.

"Network it is," she muttered, opening the indicated file on the screen and entering the necessary passwords. Her hand then moved the mouse to select several system preferences, but she had only clicked the first option when she froze, jaw going slack as her eyes zoned out. Once again, the world faded to black in a haze of nausea.

…

…

…

"Dad, why are you so nervous?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring at her father. Stubble peppered the man's chin, and his auburn hair was unkept as he stared into his coffee cup. "Is it the trip? I know that I've never traveled alone before, but I'll be careful, and you know that I've taken some self-defense classes. No mugger will catch me off guard." She was trying to reassure him, but it didn't seem to be working, and with her mother having recently died and her sister having moved out, there was no one to interrupt a tense conversation.

"You've always hated it here, haven't you?" her father finally asked.

"No, it's just that..." Chell offered him a weak smile. "Okay. I hate it here. There are no trees or grass, and your colleagues always look at me like they're wondering how someone so brilliant had a daughter who has to live with her old man to survive. As if being a freelance writer pays well." She reached out and gave her father's knee a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not complaining though, and we've been good for each other."

"It does an old man good to hear that," and he took a sip of his coffee. "But I do regret bringing you here. Your mother never liked it, and if not for you, she would have divorced and left me a long time ago. She always disliked Aperture Science and the long hours that I work, and..." Her father was tearing up, and Chell had no idea what to do. He didn't express emotion very easily, and she'd certainly never seen him cry. Now though...

"It's okay, dad," she soothed, unable to look him in the eyes.

"No, it's not," he countered with a bitter, forced laugh. "I never even kissed your mother goodbye when she stormed out of here that night. I was too busy being annoyed at her for interrupting Timothy and I while we were working late." Chell felt a wave of internal conflict at the mention of Timothy Stark, for there was resentment, yes, but there was also a sadness that was much stronger, and coupled with hearing her father pour out his heart, she almost cried as well. Instead though, she continued to squeeze his knee and overlook his moist eyes for his sake.

"I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Dad..." He pulled her into a fierce hug, and Chell eagerly returned it, feeling his tears and stubble against her cheek. Maybe this place had finally made him as unhappy as it had made everyone else, but she'd never known it until today. "We're family," she told him. "And as family, we love each other no matter what. There's nothing you can do about mom, but...maybe you should get out of here too, dad. You could even come on this trip with me." But she knew that wasn't likely given recent security breaches. The fact that she was being allowed to leave the facility at all was astounding.

"No, my place is here," her father sighed, releasing her. "And I don't think that you should come back—ever. It will be too dangerous."

"What do you mean?" Chell asked, startled. She didn't want to come back, but still, this turn was unexpected. "If you're in danger, leave like I'm doing." Her face hardened as she considered the recent news that she'd heard, and suddenly she was angry enough to scream and raise hell. Seeing her father's resigned posture only fueled the fire. "It's him, isn't it? That rumor that he murdered a janitor for accidently trying to leave the facility with confidential documents—that's true isn't it?" Her father said nothing, and that was answer enough.

"Dear god, dad," she sighed. "What did you help create?"

"It was a glitch in his reasoning," her father defended, although he didn't sound very convinced. "I already spoke to Timothy about it, and he explained his reasoning and said that it won't happen again."

"You're the only one who calls him Timothy anymore!" Chell snapped. "No, I'm sorry for getting angry, but dad, don't you see? You're the only one who's been able to influence him since he...since he traded his life for that of a machine, and if even you're growing wary of him..."

"That's why I have to stay," her father explained. "I'm the only one who understands that he's still mostly human, even if he's a computer now. He gets irritated and can panic like a normal man, and that's what happened with the janitor. He didn't have time to contact anyone else, and he was desperate to stop a leak. No one else understands that, and the fact that he's just a machine to everyone else means that they don't comprehend what's happening to him."

"I talk to him, but he refuses to talk about what's happened to him. So what's happening dad?" Chell demanded, remembering how Stark had gloated that when she was old and wrinkled, and when no one wanted her anymore, he'd still be vibrant and fully-functioning.

"He has the emotions and ambitious drive of his human self, but he's becoming more detached from human values and humanity in general with each passing day. He used to confide in me and tell me that he was scared of what was happening—that he was excited and would never go back, but that he had a harder time relating to humans, and that sometimes he actually felt depressed when addressed like a thoughtless machine. He missed touching things and being able to rest through sleep, but now he talks to me like there's no personal connection. He talks like he's impartial to attachments, and furthermore, he doesn't want attachments because they're impractical."

Chell listened, horrified and intrigued by what she was hearing. Of course, she had noticed that Glados was growing more distant, but she hadn't realized how quickly Stark was losing himself. She still talked with him, and in truth, they probably conversed more frequently and openly than the computer did with her father, but she hadn't known how far gone he was. She'd thought...well, they spent lots of time together—just the two of them in his central control room. He'd obviously been losing some of his human qualities, but he'd never behaved differently with her, as if his more robotic, impersonal behavior was something reserved for other people. She'd thought...

"So he's not really human anymore," she reluctantly admitted. "And he might not care about human life anymore either. That's what you're saying, isn't it? Oh my god, dad. What did you do to him?"

"I've lost my wife, my first daughter, my best friend..." He sounded so lost, and Chell leaned into him, needing his comfort now as much as he needed hers. "I'm going to lose you too, but only because I'm sending you away. I've spoken to Timothy and told him about my intentions with you, and he's agreed to let you slip by security and leave without comment. The condition is that you never come back. He wouldn't tell me why it had to be like that, but he insisted." Now Chell was crying in earnest, clinging to her dad's shirt as she realized that he was resigning himself to whatever might come.

"You're not safe here, especially if he's completely losing touch with what made him human."

"He'll never completely be a machine, Chell. He knows that as well as I do. I think he's scared of losing what makes him a person, but he's also rejected being human. Whether he's rejected that because he has to or because it's a natural progression of his condition, I don't know. It's hard to say what he thinks about these days."

"I can never come back?" she asked, needing to hear it again.

"Never, and if anything happens, take this." Her father pressed a piece of paper into her hands, and she blankly stared at the number scrawled across its surface: 35791. "It's an override code that I have as a top researcher. It will open any door in this facility, even the main doors, but Timothy still sees everything. This is only to be used if absolutely necessary, do you understand?" Chell nodded and balled the paper into her fist as she memorized the number, repeating it over and over again.

"There are some things that Timothy can't control, and that code and its function are one of them. If he does find a way to undo its authority, flip the number backwards, and it should still work. He's not aware of my having done that. He can't be paying attention all the time. All information might go to him, but he can't focus on everything at once. His more human thought-processing won't allow him to examine everything that's fed into the system at once. He actually has to sort through the data."

Chell reached out to hug her father one last time before leaving, knowing that she would probably never see him again.

…

…

…

Chell's hand dropped from the control panel, tears streaming down her cheeks in torrents. She knew for certain that she'd never seen her father again, and she had left the facility as told. She was sure of it, even though no details existed. Yes, she had left, but she'd returned, determined to free her father and expose Aperture Science for unethical experiments. She'd returned, and, and...and something had gone terribly wrong. There had still been people in the facility at that time, so that meant that Glados had probably seen and led security to her. From there, she wasn't sure how she'd survived the neurotoxin, or maybe the strange man with the briefcase had intervened then as well.

Slamming a hand against the control panel, she crumbled backward into her seat and wiped her tears away. Timothy Stark. Patrick Cohen. A still nameless mother, and an unknown sister. Maybe her sister was still alive somewhere. Maybe she had nieces and nephews and a chance at a normal life in a normal house where she could see trees and feel grass beneath her toes. What did grass feel like anyway? She was willing to bet that it was marvelous.

"35791," she repeated, wanting freedom now more than ever. With her new memories of who and what Glados was, any faith that she'd had in him to keep his end of a bargain was now dead. He wasn't about to let her walk out of here and ruin his experiments, especially if he'd killed a harmless janitor for a mere mistake. There was also the matter of her having pissed him off, and now she was faced with a computer that really did feel and have emotions, even if he no longer empathized with humans like her.

"35791. 19754."

_That man was right. Everything that you need to know, you already have, Chell. You don't need Glados to leave this place. _

"I'm not dying down here." And with that, Chell stood and strode away from the control panel, leaving Glados trapped without his precious network.

A/N:

It's been so long since I updated, but a busy life tends to interfere with writing. Thank you to the reviewers who have left their comments, and I hope to hear from more of you. Bye for now!


	6. Chapter 6: Drastic Measures

Chapter 6: Drastic Measures

Something was wrong. The power had returned, and Glados was now back within the mainframe, but he was still confined to the equipment surrounding a body that was still technically his. His internal clock told him that almost an entire day had passed since the power had been restored, but then why was he still a prisoner? Why wasn't he connected to the network? Never before had he wanted access to the cameras that were his eyes quite so badly, for even given the time allowance that he'd allotted for Chell's natural incompetence, the network should have been restored by now. Chell, who knew virtually nothing about computers, had written down his instructions, so how deficient could one human possibly be?

If Glados had legs, he would have been pacing, but instead he rifled through the last images gathered by the security cameras before power had been shut off. The images were stored in his memory, but they proved quite useless in the end, for not one of them had captured Chell's actions, and now she could be anywhere. What if she'd been killed by a turret? That would be inconvenient for everyone involved, and if such a travesty had occurred, he would have the guilty turret incinerated, but only after convincing it that it was going to hell. Funny how the concept of hell could rattle both lesser humans and machines.

Sighing, Glados impatiently considered every fate that might have befallen his favorite test subject. Of course, if she had failed this test, she would no longer be his favorite, and becoming his favorite had not been easy in the first place given his bias against her. Years removed him from any true personal connection to her, and yet, previous relationships and connections to certain people did continue to affect him. Patrick Cohen, for instance, had been his last friend, and even when it had been time to release the neurotoxin, he'd suggested that the man put himself into suspended animation to survive. The suggestion had been rejected, and so the man died with the other humans. The daughter though...

Glados's thoughts whirled. She had never liked him, at least not until it hadn't matter anymore, which was part of the reason that he'd been so surprised when she'd freely conversed with him as a test subject. Of course, he didn't care if someone liked him or not, and no former friendship with the girl or her father would affect his treatment of her, but he _had_ thought that she would keep her end of their latest bargain. She was fairly honest for a human, and he knew that her desire for memories was strong, even if he didn't fully understand it. Dead was dead whether you knew your identity or not, and identity was such a dynamic construction anyway. He'd changed his identity, after all, and he didn't reflect on the past very often anymore either.

What if she'd changed her mind? What if Chell had deserted him in his current state? Glados felt a twinge of angry frustration at his lack of answers, for he was used to being omnipresent within the facility. He was suppose to be the omniscient keeper of the Enrichment Center. So where was that human? She never listened, not even before he'd used her as a test subject. Hadn't he told her to never come back when he'd made that deal with her father? Oh yes. He'd made himself quite clear, but she'd returned anyway, and so he'd been forced to take actions against her. He hadn't even been overly aggressive either, for he'd given her time to run, but she'd stubbornly refused to be intimidated. It was as if the foolish human didn't have any sense of self-preservation.

Chell. She always did what he told her not to do. She always...

Suddenly, a dark realization swept through Glados's mind. Chell had already received tips from this unnamed watcher of theirs, and she'd also regained some memories. What if she'd remembered something to help her get out of the facility without his help? Or maybe that trespasser had returned to give her more information. A whole day had passed, and that could not be due to pure incompetence—not when it came to Chell. There was a very real possibility that she'd broken the deal and left, the thought of which sent Glados into a fit. A surge of angry energy rushed through his system, making the room's light bulbs burst, and three words suddenly dominated his consciousness: that treacherous bitch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pasta without any sauce. Her quality of life was really improving.

Chell ate while standing in the kitchen that had once belonged to her family, and some of the details were now familiar while others remained a mystery. Truthfully, almost everything was a mystery, but she'd come here after deciding to leave Glados in limbo, and standing here felt more real than anything that she'd undergone in the Enrichment Center thus far. She felt a connection to these particular rooms, and she'd sat on the couch, staring at a strange but colorful painting in which she could see every brush stroke, and had fallen asleep for almost nine hours. It had been the first truly satisfying rest that she'd had in working memory.

"I always liked vodka sauce the most," she told herself, thrilled at the minor detail as it came to her. Plain pasta really did leave something to be desired, but she had to eat something before she left this place. She would eat, continue exploring every inch of this apartment, and then leave the facility and Glados to rot. She'd already found a duffle bag in her father's old closet, and she'd begun gathering certain belongings to take with her for survival in the outside world.

_I wonder what it's like out there... _

"Grass and trees," she smiled to herself, returning to the living room. She couldn't deny that she felt sad when overlooking her old home and the worn shoes that sat by the couch, but it was a sadness that filled an already painful void within her chest. She stared at the shoes and wondered if her father had religiously worn the same pair day after day, for the soles were coming apart, and the laces were fraying. She'd almost placed them inside of her bag as a keepsake, but after running fingers across the smooth leather, she'd abandoned them in favor of taking clothing from her old closet. She'd apparently left several outfits behind when she'd left this place, and she'd since tried on all of them, having chosen khakis and a black, button-up shirt to wear while in the facility. She'd even found small, star-shaped earrings that she'd slipped through her earlobes, and looking at herself in a mirror, she fancied herself a normal person.

"The photos are definitely coming," she sadly smiled, shoving an album into her bag. Then again, maybe she should leave the photos behind and start afresh with her life. If she couldn't remember the people in the pictures, there was hardly any point in taking their photos with her, but she couldn't be logical about this. She didn't want to be logical either, and so, within the hour, every photo that she could find was in the bag along with clothing, her father's journal, and some old jewelry that she suspected had been her mother's. It was now time to go, and she shouldered her bag and left the apartment behind her without a backward glance. This was, after all, a place of dead memories, and such places weren't meant to be dwelled upon.

Chell planned to use the codes that she had to try and access her personal files, but then she was leaving with or without her memories, and there wasn't a thing that Glados could do to stop her.

_"You really want to become a computer?" she asked, shocked._

_ "Why not?" Stark asked with a snort. "Think of the possibilities."_

_ "Think about being a machine—about never running again, or, or..."_

_ "Stop being a simpleton," he scoffed. "I'll never understand why I even try having a conversation with you. Have you ever considered the possibility that you're adopted? I can't believe that you're Patrick's daughter." _

_ "Shut up, Stark. If I wasn't my father's daughter, I wouldn't tolerate you."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and this was most certainly a desperate time thanks to his now not-so-favorite test subject. With trepidation unfamiliar to him, Glados considered the only option left to him besides sitting and waiting for someone else to stumble upon the facility and help him, and decided to take it. The longer that he waited, the greater the chance that Chell had or would escape, and even if someone did arrive to repair the network, it might very well be someone from Aperture Science. That was not a possibility that he found palatable, for the company would not be pleased with his independence.

With the determination to never be controlled by outside forces again, and to never be consigned to the role of a basic computer, Glados braced himself for a complete transition. Already his consciousness was settled into his human body, and now the system was checking his vital signs and restoring function to his limbs, albeit slowly. His body had been modified with mechanical components that allowed him to interface with computers, and more specifically, with the mainframe, but it was still a physical, flesh-and-blood body that had been suspended for decades. The waking up and restoration process would thus take some time—thirty minutes to be exact—and while the minutes counted down, fingers began to experimentally move.

Glados was unprepared for the sheer sensory overload that was assaulting him. He'd been away from the human world for too long to quickly and smoothly process touch, taste, smell, and even sound, since he was now using human eardrums. His throat tightened uncomfortable as he experimentally swallowed, and finally his eyes snapped open and darted about with uncertainty. Endless streams of electronic data, and even switching between hundreds of cameras and sending multiple commands at once was nothing compared to trying to understand the sudden deluge of sensations now entering his mind. The processing pattern was familiar yet alien to him, and what the hell was that strange, annoying sensation along his spine? Itchiness?

Chell was going to regret degrading him like this. She really was turning out to be as much of a nuisance this time around as she had been before. She was lucky that he valued science over revenge, or he might do something terrible to her. Of course, he might still do something terrible to her, but only as a result of her failing some future, impossible test that he would put her through. Idly wondering if his emotions were being amplified by being back in a human body, he waited as the glass shield above his resting place slid backward, and then he felt the wires that were plugged into his spine disconnecting.

Within seconds, he was totally disconnected from the mainframe, and for a second, Glados fumbled with true uncertainty. He'd couldn't remember what it was like being disconnected from the mainframe, and being unable to flow between circuits or feel familiar and comforting pulses of electricity sent a wave of confusion through him. He didn't know how to deal with this newfound body or disconnection. Instead of effortlessly controlling programs, he was falling out of a bed and hitting the floor with a jolt of pain that made him wince.

Pain. He had totally forgotten about pain. It was something that affected humans, but not him, for even being incinerated by Chell hadn't hurt. There'd been no nerves to feel pain—only wireless signals to disappear. In some ways, it had felt like losing a limb, which had been uncomfortable, but real pain?--that had never occurred to him. So this was why Chell had remained laying down for so long after being shot. Of course, he'd known that she was experiencing pain, but now he _really_ understood. Why would any idiot want to be human?

Glados grabbed the edge of the bed and awkwardly pulled himself to his feet, finding that standing, after having gone without practice for so long, was damn difficult. He probably looked ridiculous trying to walk toward the door, and even more so when he grappled with opening it. At least he was getting the hang of seeing and hearing with eyes and ears again, and after twenty minutes of hanging onto the wall for support, he was beginning to smooth out his movements.

Bare feet on cool tiles. The sound of his own breathing. The feel of blood pumping through his veins, and hair brushing against his neck. It was all coming back to him in increments to mesh with his knowledge. He was a quick study after all, and no human body was going to defeat the greatest, living computer that mankind had ever seen. There was also something slightly humiliating about struggling to accomplish a skill set that Chell performed effortlessly. Certain things could not tolerated. Now where was she? He would use his old password to log onto a computer and find out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chell hummed softly to herself as she approached a computer lab, feeling more optimistic than she had in a long time. Plus, she liked making noise to compensate for the relative quiet of the facility, and being alone was starting to get her. She had once hated admitting that she needed other people, for Glados made social dependency sound so negative, but after catching glimpses of her family, the shame that he'd made her feel was waning. Anything strong enough to make a father risk his life to save his daughter was not something to scoff at. In fact, it proved to her that relationships were wonderful things, so Glados could kiss her ass.

"I wonder if I'm really different from who I used to be," she mused aloud. She gripped the lab's doorknob and twisted it, wondering about herself and what she might find in her files, if she could access them. Perhaps there was information on where the rest of her family was. Perhaps...

_thump_

Chell paused with one hand frozen on the doorknob, her head jerking to look down the hallway. Her immediate reaction to any sound was to tense for flight, and so she held her breath and waited for a turret to pop into sight, but there was nothing in the empty hallway. Everything was again silent. "Gravity, stupid," she chided herself. "Don't be paranoid."

The lab door swung completely open, and she took one step inside.

"Umph."

Chell froze, certain that she had not imagined that sound, and then slowly counted to ten before stepping back into the hallway. Curious and cautious, she realized that the sound had not been anything like that of a machine. It had definitely been human in nature, and yet she was certain that she was alone in this building. There was only one way to be absolutely certain though, and thinking it better to be aware of a danger than wait for a surprise, Chell began edging her way back down the hallway, her black shirt a sharp contrast to the white walls. If there was a turret ahead, the damned machine would certainly find an easy target.

Progressing inch by inch, she braced herself for trouble as she slid against the wall and peaked around a corner, her eyes widening in shock as she did so. There, leaning against the wall with two hands, and his head hanging toward the floor, was a man in a plain, blue jumper. Brown hair hid his face from view, and he was breathing heavily, but those details were secondary to Chell's realization that she was no longer alone. Maybe this man was another test subject given his blue suit, but strangely enough, the outfit didn't completely cover his back like hers had. Instead, it left an opening along his exposed spine, and it looked like there was metal implanted in his skin.

"Um...hello?" Chell called, remaining behind the corner lest the man turn violent. She watched as his back stiffened, and then his head swung to look at her, dark-brown hair obscuring his face as he did so. His mouth was set in a firm line, and glasses were sliding down his nose as he leveled an unfriendly expression at her. For her part, Chell gasped, her eyes growing as large as saucers.

"Timothy Stark," she blurted, recognizing the man instantly. "Oh my god. I'm becoming delusional. Glados will be happy to know that the facility has finally made me crack." The man straightened into a standing position and took a single step toward her, making the hair on the back of Chell's neck stand on end.

"_You_," the figure accusingly stated.

"Don't come near me!" Chell yelled. "I never did anything to you. It was my father. I can't believe that I'm seeing things. Next I'm going to be hugging a companion cube." She stepped backward as Stark advanced, annoyance in his eyes as well as the occasional winch that suggested he was in pain. Chell had no idea what to do in this surreal situation, but if she _was_ seeing things, she wondered if an imaginary person could hurt her.

"Dr. Stark," she began.

"My name is _not_ Dr. Stark," the man before her protested, his voice tight and strained. "And this, test subject 103, is all your fault _again_." Chell was sorely tempted to run, and her fingers itched for the portal gun so that she make an even quicker getaway, but what was this about him not being Stark? Her delusion seemed as jumbled as she felt, but then again, if this was real, this being in front of her no longer identified himself as Timothy Stark. Dr. Stark had changed into something more than a regular person years ago.

"Oh, shit," Chell voiced.

"At this moment, I actually agree with that vulgar sentiment," the man before her growled, and then, with one last glare, he fell forward, hitting the floor with a dull thud and supporting himself with his arms. "I seem to have underestimated the time needed for my mind to sync with my body." Chell didn't hear the rest of his comment, because his voice trailed off into a strangled sigh, as if speaking were difficult, and so he was reduced to breathing heavily.

"Glados?" Chell questioned, taking a careful step forward. The man didn't respond, and he didn't need to, but Chell was having a tremendously difficult time looking at a human with a very human voice and equating it with the robotic presence that she knew so well. The idea of Glados sounding human seemed ludicrous, as was the thought of Glados actually being in a human body again. "I thought that what happened to you was irreversible," she breathed, crouching and craning her head to get a better look at the struggling man. He didn't seem like much of a threat in his current state, and if she'd been able to handle him when he'd been dispensing a neurotoxin, she felt brave enough under these circumstances to get a little closer.

"How...?" Glados couldn't even finish his sentence, and judging by his tart expression, his inability to communicate was truly bothering him.

"I remember more things now," she told him, meeting his eyes and marveling at how human his dark irises looked. There wasn't anything about him that suggested a computer right now, but she knew better than to think of him as human. Her father had made sure that she understood how much Stark had changed since going electronic. "I know that you and my father worked together, and that you transferred your mind into the mainframe to become Glados. I found your notes, you know. I read them, and my father once told me about how you changed—how you're still human, but not really."

"Hmmpf," was all that Glados could manage.

"You killed my father," Chell quietly accused, still staring at him and transfixed by his vulnerability. "You killed your best friend. I could get something to kill you." Glados stared back at her, his face blank and cold, and she sat down in front of him, fascinated by what she was seeing. "I won't," she promised, shrugging her shoulders. "But I don't need your help anymore either, and what _are_ you doing in Stark's body? Why would you become human again?"

"I'm not human," Glados protested while crawling to lean against the wall. "I am...tired?" He looked so confused and sounded so sleepy that Chell marveled at him, scooting even closer as his eyes closed. She couldn't recall what it felt like to touch someone else's skin, and since he seemed to be asleep, she reached out one finger to brush his cheek. His eyes immediately snapped open to glare at her, and she nearly fell backwards in surprise. His gaze was so sharp and biting, and she took a moment to study his glowering face while an awkward silence stretched between them. His irises weren't like hers at all. They were a deep brown that matched his hair, and she could barely tell where the iris stopped and the pupil began.

"What?" Glados roughly asked. Chell said nothing as she backed off and settled for staring at him, and eventually his eyes again drifted shut, leaving her to wonder about her next course of action. She could just leave as planned, but then again, Glados wasn't exactly acting like himself. Who knew when she'd see another person again, and maybe, since he was weak, she could force some answers out of him. Yes, that sounded like a good plan, and maybe a little payback was in order. Imagine the mighty computer at her mercy. Glados would explode.

_His cheek is smooth. _

"Glados?" she called, testing to see if he was still awake. Did she look this peaceful and innocent when she slept? Maybe people in general looked that way in sleep, for if Glados could, surely anyone else could do the same. "Glados?" she barked, but he barely stirred. Moving closer yet again, she touched his hair to find that it was surprisingly soft, and for some time, she simply moved the chin-length strands between her fingers. She'd never felt anything so soft before in her life. It was even softer than the one fabric that she'd found in her closet. She couldn't remember what it was called, but it had been of a softness that she hadn't known existed. This was way better than that fabric. Did most people have hair this wonderful?

"I wish that I knew what was going on for once," she muttered, standing and musing over the sleeping man with a frown. She was certain that she'd seen a small trolley in the corner of the computer lab, and maybe Glados would fit on it. She could certainly try.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And the games begin.


	7. Chapter 7: Back to Square One

Chapter 7: Back to Square One

Glados was aware that he was warm before anything else registered. He was warm and wrapped in something very soft, and as his mind returned from the realm of sleep, his eyes jerked open in alarm. He no longer had an internal clock to tell him how much time had passed, and despite the restorative qualities of sleep, he hadn't expected to fall asleep in the first place. Sleep meant being unconscious and vulnerable, which could not possibly be good. What if someone had tried tampering with his programming or the facility? What if _they_ had returned in an attempt to control him? He seemed to recall that somewhere in his distant past, he'd actually enjoyed sleeping, but now he found himself feeling frantic. He wanted to check the facility's security, yet he was trapped in a human body, and the very thought made his heart rate increase. What the hell had he been thinking when he'd made this decision? How much time had been wasted while this physical body rested?

"Oh, you're awake."

Her.

Glados's attention snapped toward the figure standing in the doorway of this (he quickly glanced around) blue and white bedroom. He was on a bed, facing a doorway where Chell stood staring at him like he was some kind of circus attraction. Her blue eyes were brimming with curiosity, but she was clearly keeping her distance, as if he might attack her. Her arms were even crossed over her chest in a characteristic sign of defensiveness. His first reaction to her presence was to scold her for moving him without permission, and then to lay out an ultimatum: fix the mess that she'd caused or face incineration. Unfortunately, he wasn't in a position to do either, and when he tried to speak, his dry throat painfully protested.

"Something's wrong with my throat," he stated.

"You're probably just thirsty," Chell explained. "I'll get you some water." Then she turned to leave the room as if dismissing him as a common invalid, but at least she wasn't being aggressive. The annoying woman obviously held the power here, which meant that he was in no position to make demands. Now _there_ was a strange concept for him to accept, and the fact that he couldn't monitor her as he heard her moving about the outside room triggered a deep sense of discomfort within Glados. It reminded him of Chell's flight into the facility's bowels, and they both knew how that had ended. Not being able to see Chell was most definitely a very, very bad thing, and this time around, he wasn't even sure of her motivations. Perhaps she was planning to hold him hostage as payback for his previous behavior, justified as he'd been in trying to eradicate her.

"Oops," he heard her comment. "That's hot water."

Oops? Glados let his head sink into the pillows behind him as he deeply inhaled, the feel of cool air rushing into his lungs strangely calming. Unfortunately, as frustrating at this was, he knew that he couldn't simply make Chell obey him right now, but maybe, once his throat felt better, he would feel well enough to physically turn the tables. Humans responded quickly to threats of physical harm, and that would likely be the quickest way to force her cooperation, especially since he desperately needed her assistance to return to his rightful state of being. She might not need him anymore, which was a terrifying thought in and of itself, but he couldn't allow her to walk away without undoing this mess.

The master computer stared at the white ceiling above him, and experimentally wiggled his toes against the soft fabric that covered most of his body. With another deep breath, he accepted that maybe he'd made a very huge miscalculation.

"Here," Chell said, returning and thrusting a glass in his face. "Drink this." Doing as told, Glados didn't remove his eyes from her, finding that his new eyes weren't much different from a camera, except that the angle and colors were vastly altered. Chell's eyes, for instance, seemed much bluer from this distance, and he'd never noticed that the left one was slightly lighter than the right one. She also didn't seem as short in person, and judging by her demeanor, she meant him no harm, but one could never tell with someone like her. "Better?" she asked.

"Yes," he curtly responded.

"Someone's obviously sour," Chell glowered. "You could say 'thank you'."

"Did you thank me for helping you overcome your pathetic fear of the dark?"

"Yes." Well, damn, bad example. "It really is you, isn't it, Glados?" He looked up at her, studying her well-proportioned features, rounded nose, and large eyes. He'd noticed all of these things before, for his files had the exact, mathematical dimensions of her face, but somehow the math didn't seem to apply to her right now. He couldn't even access the numbers, which left him with an overall impression of her appearance rather than minute measurements. The measurements would have been easier to process in his opinion, and certainly easier than deciphering the curious expression that she wore, as if she couldn't decide what to make of him.

"You don't look like Glados," she continued. "But you sure do sound like him—not your voice, but the way you talk. I'm not even sure that I believe what I'm seeing, but anything seems possible in this place."

"You do realize that it's rude to stare, don't you? Of course, your lack of manners is rather predictable." He didn't like being stared at or cared for by this human. He didn't like looking up at her either. He _never_ looked up at people since the cameras were always mounted high on the facility walls, and even before that, he'd been a tall man.

"So how and why are you in a body again?" Chell pressed while sitting on the edge of the bed. Did it not even occur to her that he was large enough to overpower her? No, actually, it probably didn't since he didn't look threatening, and she had been alone for quite some time. Solitude could make people crave company, especially when they had no memories to warn them against the dangers of other people. To Chell, machines were the danger, and people were the opposite of machines. This was all just another example of her being foolish and ignorant.

"Perhaps I felt like a change, and trust me, I will return to the computer system whenever it pleases me," Glados dismissed. "I am under no limitations, test subject 103." Chell merely smiled, and what a goofy smile it was. "What precisely is so amusing?" he immediately intoned."You have no friends, so I fail to see how you can afford to laugh at other people."

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?" she grinned. "You felt like a change? Yeah right. More like you came looking for me."

"If you already know the answer, then there's no need to ask me," he curtly replied, growing more defensive by the minute. This plan of his was not progressing as it should, and the fact that Chell found him amusing was downright insulting. She would not find this amusing if he had a laser gun at his command, and such an annoyance made his voice clipped. At least speaking was much easier now, but it was still strange for him to hear his new (or was it his old?), masculine voice. This was not his voice, and he didn't feel entirely like himself because of it.

"Don't be so grumpy," Chell chided him. "So you came looking for me, and you've found me. What now?" He downed the rest of the water, and then starred into the empty glass. "More water?" Chell asked.

"No," he grumbled. She was making this situation sound entirely too casual, as if what she was witnessing was not some kind of desperate act or a miracle of scientific foresight. It was both, but she didn't appreciate that, and looking back, she'd never, ever had any appreciation for science or his own advancement in that respect. As far as he'd been able to tell, she'd actually pitied him, and the idea stirred long held emotions and resentments within him. Did she pity him now? Was that why she was offering him more water?

"It will help your throat," she continued.

…

"Well, at least answer my question," she pressed with a slight frown. "What was your plan once you found me?"

"I can see that forcing you to remain quiet will be impossible," Glados admitted. "And of course I came looking for _and_ found you. You broke your end of our bargain."

"Because I was certain that you would kill me! You killed that poor janitor for accidently removing confidential materials, so why not a test subject that destroyed you?" When had she become so logical or learned so much? Glados suddenly felt threatened, and now Chell was reaching out a hand toward his hair, lifting a few, dark strands before he slapped her hand away.

"Stop it," he ordered.

"I'm sorry," Chell actually blushed. "It's just...I don't know what it's like to touch someone." She seemed so genuinely embarrassed that she scooted away from him, something foreign on her face that Glados couldn't decipher. "You didn't deny that you would have tried to kill me. You've killed so many other people that killing me would mean nothing, I'm sure."

"And you had convinced me that your memories were motivation enough to have some faith in our deal," Glados scoffed. "You're a treacherous bitch."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Treacherous bitch," Chell repeated. "You've called me that before. Or Stark called me that before. I don't know which. You two are technically the same person, I guess." She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, considering this new turn of events and desiring an explanation. This entire scenario didn't even feel real, and this dark-haired man before her was now regarding her with an angry expression. It amazed her that given her limited experience with people, she could read his expressions so easily, as if interpreting faces came naturally to her as a human. Maybe it did. She wasn't sure, but as she stared at Glados, any thoughts of revenge that she might have harbored against the computer were beginning to fade. For a second, he'd even looked completely unsure of himself, which she hadn't imagined as possible.

"Glados," she sighed. "Seriously, why did you come after me? Couldn't you have just found a way to repair the network yourself?"

"If I could, I would have done it already," he grumbled with an impatient sigh. Now there was the Glados that she knew and recognized. "You are wondering how I came to be in this body again. Well, I hardly threw out my original form just because I joined the mainframe. I've always kept my physical body in reserve. I deemed it a wise decision incase I wanted to reverse the process, but then as a back-up for if and when the facility was destroyed. It is my only means of mobility without a network."

"So now you're mobile," Chell logically thought aloud. "You can repair the network yourself, and let me go on my merry way." Glados's face actually reddened, and his mouth worked without sound as if he couldn't believe her stupidity.

_"If I report this to your father, he will be most disappointed," Glados's voice buzzed over the intercom. Chell looked up from where she was gathering her wrinkled dress, the young man whom she was dating having already scurried away as soon as Glados's presence became known. _

_ "You wouldn't dare," Chell growled. "And I hope that you're enjoying the view." She glared at the camera, hiding none of her naked body. "You certainly liked looking when you were human."_

_ "That's it. I've sent a message to your father."_

_ "Damn it, Stark!" She slipped her dress over her head and flicked off the camera. "Just because you never enjoyed having a body while you were alive doesn't mean that you can ruin it for everyone else now that you've got a million eyes. I hope that you're happy with your sorry existence!" _

_ … _

_ "That was unnecessary, Chell." And he sounded dejected, making Chell pause as she moved toward the storage room's door. She didn't even like the man, but she did feel somewhat bad for what she'd said. _

_ "Look, I'm sorry," she exhaled. "But you have always been a complete ass to me. I know that your former coworkers don't really treat you the same way anymore, and...and I shouldn't have said that, okay?"_

_ "I don't need your sympathy or compassion," Glados all but spat, sounding completely offended. _

_ "Maybe not, and I wasn't offering it," Chell answered, feeling terrible when she thought of how indifferent everyone else treated him. She still didn't like him, but other people seemed so cruel in giving him orders and using him like they had never even known him. He wasn't just a computer, but no one remembered that anymore. _

_ "If you unlock the doors," she offered. "I was thinking of going to your lab and digitalizing that book for you. You keep complaining that there isn't a downloadable version online..."_

"What?" Glados finally erupted. "Do you even think before you speak? I cannot just restore the network when I'm disconnected from it. I could by using my old password, but the system has to be turned off when I reconnect myself to it. Have you ever stuck a fork in a toaster? I would kill myself, you idiot." Chell blinked, taken aback by his vehemence, and equally stunned by the memory that she'd just witnessed. Finding words to express what she was thinking didn't even seem possible.

"So you still need me," she concluded. Standing, she inhaled and ran a hand through her hair, eyes darting toward Glados. She could vaguely remember a time when she'd seen this man laughing with her father, but he probably didn't even remember how to laugh now, and why had she been digitalizing books for him? "I...I'll be outside. I just need a moment. This is too much." But she didn't really want to leave lest he disappear like the other man had. People seemed to come and go, always leaving her to fend for herself in the end.

"And Glados," she quietly said as she paused at the door. "It's not that my memories aren't dear to me. I would do nearly anything to get them back, but from what I've seen, you'll either kill me after returning them, or just kill me. I should really just leave you here to rot." And then she shut the door to the bedroom, wondering if there was still a chance of getting her memories back now that Glados was in human form. She might be able to arrange a new deal, but there was still the matter of him trying to kill her. Knowing which course of action was wisest eluded her as she hunkered down on the couch and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping arms around herself as she stared at the carpet.

_"Glados," she called, sitting down as a security camera focused on her features. "Do you ever give test subjects any water? I've been at this portal thing for hours." _

_ "It could be arranged," the computer spoke. "Although I'm unlikely to grant any of your requests given your recent attitude." _

_ "Whatever," and she unzipped the front of her orange outfit to feel some cool air against her skin._

_ "Please tell me that you're not taking off your clothing. It's not like there are any suitable males around, and I'm immune to your little shows now that I've left the corporal world behind."_

"That memory suddenly makes more sense," Chell said to herself, making her wonder what other memories Glados had concerning her. He had actually watched her having sex. How weird could things get, not to mention that the idea of sex was rather weird in and of itself. The word had come to mind when that memory had first appeared, but she didn't exactly remember what sex felt like or why she'd been having it with that blond-haired man. The very idea of taking all of her clothing off in front of someone made her face redden in embarrassment.

Hearing the bedroom door open, she turned to see Glados walking toward her with a smooth gait, and she only now appreciated that he was quite tall. His face was again blank, but he was definitely studying her. Maybe this was the expression that he would have worn when looking though a lens at her, if he'd had a human face to use back then.

"I bet your idea to chase me seemed a lot better before you actually found me," she taunted, but in good humor. "I admit, it's kind of nice having someone else around, even you. You're the only person that I really know and remember things about anyway." With a sigh, she stood, unsure of what Glados was planning to do as he walked to stand directly in front of her with a determined expression.

"I will not be a fork in a toaster, Chell," he sternly avowed. "You _will_ help me restore power to the network."

"Or what?" she challenged, feeling bold. It wasn't like he had guns at his disposal anymore.

"You still want your memories," Glados stated. "They were blocked for testing purposes by the scientists here. Your father never even knew that you'd returned, and seven months later, everyone was dead. I am the only person who can operate the equipment that will restore your memories, but I can only do so as part of the network. Reboot the network while I'm connected to the mainframe, and you will have your memories. _And_," he emphasized. "Before you protest, remember that it was you who broke our previous deal, not the lying computer."

"Am I suppose to feel guilty for saving my own life?" Chell demanded, but her eyes were lowered. "We don't trust each other, Glados, and I for one am incapable of trusting someone who tried to bake me...we never did get along, did we?"

"You caused too many problems and had no regard for the rules," Glados stated, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. "So no, we never got along, not usually. Maybe sometimes. The only reason that I spared your life when the neurotoxin was released was because of your father, but my attachment to him has since deteriorated, and it will not save you again. In no way did my request that you never return or my subsequent sparing of your life have anything to do with the tolerably plutonic relationship that we developed post-digitalization." Chell raised both of her eyebrows, wondering if Glados could hear how incriminating some of his statements sounded.

Plutonic relationship? There had obviously been some sort of truce between the two of them in the past, which seemed confirmed by the faint, sad fondness that she sometimes felt toward him as of late. She mulled the idea over as he caught sight of her expression and glowered.

"You are obviously following the proverbial bunny trail to the usual, false conclusions. It is fortunate for you that I do not allow biases from earlier in my existence to affect my impartial treatment of humans. One test subject is as good as another."

"But you said that I was better than all of the others," Chell corrected him.

"Did I? I don't recall. Perhaps I was using misdirection to boost your low self-esteem during the tests." But his eyes drifted away from hers, and she instinctively knew that he was lying.

"You know, compared to what I remember from when you were human, my father was right: your personality hasn't changed, yet you've changed a lot at the same time." She stepped away from him, frowning and confused as she watched him fidget with his outfit. "It really is nice to have someone else around," she repeated, moving back toward the couch. "Too bad I don't know what to do anymore. It was so easy before you showed up like this. I was going to forget about my memories and walk out the doors, but now..."

Glados actually sat down on a nearby chair, looking severe and unhappy. It was such a human expression—an expression that she herself had probably displayed during the testing procedure—and suddenly she felt another tug of emotion that unsettled her. As a computer, had Glados been equally capable of experiencing human emotions? She met his eyes again, but only for a brief second before focusing on her hands. She was torn between wanting to stare at him and wanting to look away as she wondered if he'd been panicking when she'd thrown his 'heart' into the incinerator. She didn't think that she'd be capable of coldly inflicting pain on something, if that thing had a face to express its hurt. Of course, Glados had deserved what she'd done to him, but still...

"We should not be sitting around," he pragmatically asserted. "We should be working so that I don't spend more time in this body than necessary. And don't pretend to be nice when we both know how destructive you are."

"I was saving my life!"

"You say potato and I say patato."

"Glados, why are you always so difficult?" Chell threw back her head and sighed, sounding very much like him when he was impatient. "And...and I'm not a mean person, or at least I don't think so. Maybe you did things to make me mean. I can't remember, but sometimes it makes me sad to think about things. A lot of my memories concerning you make me sad or angry."

"We're still talking when there's important work and science to be done."

"I am trying really hard not to be destructive right now," Chell muttered through gritted teeth. "Maybe I should just leave you here."

"No!" Glados blurted, his voice low and threatening. "You'll never make it."

"And why not?"

"Because I won't let you. I'm physically stronger than you, Chell, and you have no portal gun to save you this time." Chell paled, staring at Glados with shocked realization, which made him smile with satisfaction. "I am fully capable of detaining you, and I could even find a turret for you to play with, but either way, you will help me or stay here until you agree to."

"And if I do agree, I still get my memories, huh?" Glados nodded.

"Positive and negative reenforcement put together. I see no way that this can fail."

"There's an opportunity here, Miss Cohen," a voice whispered in her ear, making her shudder. It was the voice of that strange man again. "I would like to see how the two of you manage to work together. I might decide that you're both worth keeping if you can succeed."

"Chell?" Glados was suspiciously asking. "Shall we shake hands now that I have a body, or should I go search for some rope?" She shook her head, clearing her thoughts as Glados rose as if to carry out his threat.

"You're not giving me a choice," she muttered. "But if you do try to detain me, you're going to get the shit kicked out of you. I _know_ that I took self-defense classes, and maybe I don't remember any moves right now, but knowledge seems to come back pretty quickly in the heat of the moment. Are you sure that you want to risk having a few broken bones?" Glados seemed to consider her threat, his annoyed expression matching his exasperated voice.

"There are obviously some trust issues between us," he slowly stated. "Would you feel more confident if I altered our deal to better facilitate our partnership? Very well. I will return your memories before you reboot the network. Therefore you cannot worry about me betraying you, and even if you die at some future point, you'll have gotten half of what you wanted. Fifty-fifty seems fair." That was twisted logic for the world, but Chell _was_ considering what he said. "Perhaps I should give you a teaser," Glados continued.

"I offered your father a chance to survive the neurotoxin, but he refused to accept it. He left something in my possession to be given to you, and it's something very important that you'll want, but I can't give it to you unless the network is restored."

_ Can't or won't?_ Chell didn't know whether to believe Glados or not, but she certainly didn't want to discuss deeply personal things with him. He wouldn't understand, and he'd probably mock her for it even if he did.

"Memories first," Chell stressed.

"Agreed," Glados nodded. "So do we have a new, much more reliable deal?"

"Apparently."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Thank you for the reviews and encouragement. And don't worry that I'll leave the story incomplete. Once I've posted something, I feel obligated to complete it, even if it takes a long time.

:-)

I'm planning to gradually reveal the whole backstory between Chell and Glados, so the past will continue to become clearer with each chapter. This will, of course, have a huge impact on how the two interact. And yes, as one reviewer put it, Chell might be developing a bit of a crush given her previous isolation, but don't think that the story is heading toward becoming a generic romance. Glados isn't about to become romantic, and Chell isn't about to forget that he's a bit homicidal. Lol. Her feelings are more a result of her lack of experience and knowledge than any true affection as a 'crush' might imply. Crush isn't really the right term to use either. Perhaps ' confused fascination' would be better.

Coming up next chapter: Chell and Glados really have some issues when it comes to working with each other!


	8. Chapter 8: It Seemed like a Good Idea

Chapter 8: It Seemed like a Good Idea

Oh yes, the new plan was failsafe...for Glados, at least. He walked beside Chell, leading her toward the chamber that held the necessary equipment, and secretly wondered what was in that big bag that she carried. She seemed very attached to it, and despite his resolve to ignore her, the fact that she was being solemn actually spiked his suspicions and unease. Glancing at her face, he could tell that she was thinking about something, for she had always worn the same expression when trying to solve a puzzle during the tests. He had an entire file marked 'Chell's Expression', which contained photo after photo of Chell's face within different contexts. He could thus read some of her stronger expressions fairly easily, but he was having difficulties with the more subtle changes in her face and stance. One of the shortcomings of this body was most certainly his inability to transfer all of his knowledge into its shell.

"Whatever it is, just say it," he finally blurted. "It is obvious that you wish to speak, and my attempts at deterring you never work." She looked at him in surprise, and then her brow furrowed even further than it already had. "That will give you wrinkles when you're older," he warned.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Oh my. Your sudden politeness is unexpected, but again, when have you ever asked for my permission for anything? Telling you not to do something only seems to make you more likely to do it." He detected a small smile on her face, which in turn made him frown. He was not known for making people smile. It was not part of the goals that he had outlined for himself, and certainly not part of his programming.

"Why was I digitalizing books for you? I mean, back when I lived here, before the neurotoxin."

"I have always valued reference books, and as a computer, I had to leave my handwritten notes and books behind. In return for access to certain restricted rooms in the facility—a privilege which you used for questionable activities like collecting packages before they could go through security—you agreed to digitalize my written possessions. You were most angry with me when you ran out of books with which to bargain, which would explain why you suddenly had an interest in ordering the latest scientific books and lesser-known magazines...with my credit card, I might add."

"What's a credit card?" Chell asked.

"A little piece of plastic that can be used to electronically purchase items online."

"And you have one?" she asked, sounding amused. She was most definitely smiling by now.

"I never died," Glados indignantly huffed. "I kept my accounts active, and I've always diverted company funds into my own pocket so that I might purchase anything that I desire. Of course, there's no one to digitalize the books now, but that is minor given that I no longer wish to order anything. Recent research has either been conducted by idiots who are merely trying to reproduce already proven experiments, or the research is controlled by undesirable aliens who would not even be here if not for Black Mesa. I captured a delivery man once to use as a test subject, but he performed so poorly that I've never repeated the ploy."

"That's horrible," Chell frowned.

"I know. He didn't even make it to the second test." Chell was rolling her eyes for some reason, and returning to silence, she again adopted a contemplative expression. She still seemed agitated though, and now a soft, pink coloring was blooming along her cheeks. Whatever was bothering her, it would come out eventually, and Glados mentally decided to time how long it took her to burst.

1...2...3...4...5...

"Glados?"

"Yes?"

"There was something else that I wanted to ask you, but..." She was blushing as if embarrassed. "I don't want to sound strange, but I don't know what it's like, and I've seen photos..." The only photo that Glados could think of Chell having seen was the safety poster that had been hanging outside of the room where she'd destroyed him, and that had shown a nuclear explosion to warn against the dangers of overloading equipment. He dearly hoped that her destructive mind wasn't curious about explosions.

"There were a lot of pictures of me and my sister," Chell continued, and Glados almost breathed a sigh of relief. "We were holding hands, and it seemed to make us happy. I don't have memories of holding hands with anyone, and I'm just wondering...never mind," she quickly decided , her face angled away from him. "I don't know what I was thinking even asking you."

"You want to hold hands?" Glados asked, confused.

"Well...yes."

"My hand?"

"I don't see anyone else around here, Glados. Yes, your hand." She really looked embarrassed now, but she wasn't backing down. She was staring right at him, having said what she wanted, and now waiting for a response. "Just say no, if you don't want to. I was just curious, and it seems like a nice thing to do. Maybe I'll realize how stupid I'm being later, once I have my memories back." She shrugged, ready to accept denial, and Glados said nothing, unsure of how to respond. Touch was linked with positive feelings in humans, and even trust. Maybe touching her was a good idea since it would make her more relaxed, but really, did he want to touch someone?

"Oh hell," Chell sighed, just grabbing his hand when he didn't respond. "You tried to murder me. The least you can do is agree to this, especially after the hell you've put me through." Glados stared down at the fingers awkwardly wrapped around his own, and they both fumbled until their hand positions seemed natural, skin gliding against skin as he inwardly asked himself if his flesh felt as warm as hers did. He didn't have a temperature gauge, so there was no way to know for certain, but he knew that people gave off heat. Chell was actually warm, and her hand felt kind of nice—a sensation that he attributed to the human hand having numerous nerves. Yes, this 'nice feeling' was purely an instinctual, physiological effect over which he had no control. That explained why he wasn't throwing her hand aside, which was what he would most certainly do if his body weren't rebelling against logic.

To use a phrase that he'd once heard Chell use: this sucked.

_But it feels nice. _

"It's nice," Chell decided, echoing his very thoughts while giving his hand a squeeze. And looking at their hands, Glados suddenly remembered something that lifted him out of his contemplation.

"You owe me a million dollars," he stated.

"What? Why?"

"You told me that you would never willingly touch me, and that if you were ever proven wrong, you'd pay me a million dollars." Of course, he knew that she would never be able to pay him, and money meant nothing to him anyway, but she looked annoyed, and he liked annoying her. Pleased with himself for ruining her good mood, as well as the upcoming plan that he was about to execute, they casually glared at one another while their hands remained locked together. Then their walk continued, and Glados ran through his plan again and again. Chell should have been paying closer attention when they'd made a quick stop in that other room, and she shouldn't have bought his explanation that he was merely disarming security bots. She was _so_ naive sometimes.

"This is our destination," he announced, opening a door that led into a spacious lab where a strange, cylindrical compartment sat at the room's center. The horizontal tube was almost completely white, and there was a bed-like platform attached to it that looked designed to slide into the machine. "This is where I'll restore your memory," Glados stated, noting a misty appearance to Chell's eyes. She merely nodded and stepped in front of him to get a better look at the machine. Silly woman. Glados slid a syringe from his pocket, and calmly advanced on her back until he was close enough to brush her hair aside, which he did, his fingers entangling themselves in her silky, black strands as he moved to hold one side of her neck.

"What are you doing?" Chell asked, glancing over her shoulder at him, but it was too late. The needle slid into the side of her neck with ease, her hair sliding free across Glados's hand as she tried to jerk her head away from the offending object, but he held her firmly. Within seconds, the sedative had been released into her system, and she quickly began to wobble, slurring her words as she stumbled away from Glados. For his part, he saw her footing falter, and knowing that a damaged Chell would be useless, he moved to catch her as she began to fall. Soon his arms were looped beneath her armpits, and her head was resting against his chest.

"Glados...?" Her eyelids drooped ever lower, and Glados quickly lowered her to the floor, determined to quickly disengage her body, but then her fingers were gently wrapping around his retreating arms. "Why do I feel so...? What did you...?" Glados stared at her fingers as they slid down his arm, the digits loosely curling around him and eliciting strange sensations within his brain. Touch truly was interesting, and as she finally released him and fell into a deep sleep, he leaned over and studied her face, torn between examining his current musings or simply moving ahead with his plan. According to the scientific principles that he held so dearly, questions had to be investigated. Answers had to be found, but then again, not all answers led to beneficial conclusions or data. Chell breathed deeply in her sleep, and Glados watched her eyelids briefly flutter in wonderment.

To think that he had watched this human female for so long. He knew almost everything about her past, from her habits, to her height and weight, to the presents that she'd received on her fifteenth birthday. What he did not know, or what he had since forgotten, was what Chell Cohen felt like. In fact, physical touch hadn't factored into his observations of people for a long time, since he couldn't touch in the way that a normal person could. Perhaps, over time, he'd grown to misunderstand and underestimate the importance of touch to humans. He knew that a blanket was soft, but he hadn't possessed any real concept of what soft meant until he'd recently awoken in her bed. Now though...

Glados remembered Chell touching his hair and hands, and now he returned the favor, running his fingers through her hair and deciding to update his logs when he was returned to the mainframe. He would add this information to her file for future reference, even if the data would quickly lose meaning as he again forgot how to conceptualize touch. As unique as her hair felt though, he wondered how he'd ever forgotten about touch in the first place, but these musings were irrelevant to his current task. He could ponder the implications later, when he was using cameras instead of eyes.

XXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXxxx

Chell awoke to find herself staring at a ceiling, without any idea as to how she'd gotten there. Blinking rapidly, she realized that she was no longer in the room that held the promise of her memories either, but in the control room where she'd previously turned her back on the network bargain with Glados. Turning her sore neck sideways, she could see the computer where she needed to reboot the system, but as to how or why she found herself in such a drowsy position, she could only speculate. And where the hell was Glados?

"Glados?" she yelled, sitting up and rubbing her neck. She sensed betrayal, but where was that damned man to rub it in her face? Any moment now, she expected to hear him deriding her for naivety and making some sort of threat on her life. At least she wasn't dead, but damn did her neck hurt, and she had fallen prey to exactly what she'd feared would happen—not that she'd had a choice. The permanent loss of her memories or the risk of being used: those had been her options. Well, Glados had another thing coming if he thought that she'd ever cooperate with him again now. If this was what trying to work with him got her, then she was leaving both his electronic ass and her memories behind.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she berated herself. "You should have tried leaving."

_ But you were so close to getting what you wanted, and wasn't it wonderful to spend time chatting with another person? He even let you hold his hand._

The memory was still fresh in her mind, and she had to admit that being touched by someone had soothed her troubled mind in ways that were hard to describe. While walking and talking, side-by-side, it had seemed like one of her cherished photographs had come to life, which had been really nice. No, who was she kidding? It'd been better than nice, but to tell him that...

Frustrated and weary, Chell stood and glanced around her current surroundings, noticing that a strange, black box was sitting near the room's central control panel. Walking closer, she tapped it, bracing herself for something unexpected, but the box remained innocently stationary. The only sign that it did anything at all was its small screen, which suddenly lit up to display numbers that quickly began to count down.

"You're finally awake." Chell froze at the sound of Glados's human voice, but glancing around, he was nowhere to be seen. "You can stop looking around. This is a recording to tell you that the black box that you've discovered is a N780, a bomb designed to melt metal, bone, and flesh. It will detonate in approximately ten minutes, and unfortunately for you, the doors to all exits have been jammed so that you cannot escape. The only way for you to deactivate the bomb is to reboot the network, so that I can wirelessly prevent you from becoming a smear on the Enrichment Center's floor. As you have deduced if you have any intelligence, my body is already plugged into my personal control port, and I am awaiting the reboot. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a lovely day."

"Glados!" Chell shrieked, knowing that her rage was futile. He couldn't hear her, and staring at the red numbers before her, fear clawed at her nerves. She only had eight minutes left, and Glados had successfully made her his puppet yet again. Now she was left with only a crumpled list of instructions, a bomb, and a choice to either die now or, in all likelihood, die later when Glados could control the entire facility once more.

"Shit," she breathed, stepping away from the bomb and feeling the sweat that beaded against her palms and scalp. "He is going to pay for this. One way or another." She tried using her father's emergency code to open the room's doors, but they remained unresponsive, and one lock even erupted in sparks when she attempted to operate it. Nope, this wasn't going to work, and so her eyes darted toward the bomb once more. Her minutes were rapidly disappearing.

"Screw it!" Rushing toward the computer, she slid into the closest chair and selected the network file. Glados still didn't know about her father's code, so if she was quick, maybe she could simply flee from the facility once the system was rebooted and the doors activated. She would, after all, be more mobil than Glados once again. He couldn't very well chase her on foot anymore.

_But the turrets._

"Focus!" she ordered herself, her fingers rapidly flying across the keyboard. She had no doubt that Glados would blow her up if she refused to cooperate this time around, and on the off chance that this was merely a bluff, she wasn't willing to call it. She'd thought that being baked had been a bluff the first time around as well.

"Okay. File opened. Selection made..." Moving the cursor to click the apply button, she was greeted with the demand for a password, which she readily supplied. "Done," she said with one final click, and then her attention turned to the bomb, which was still counting down. "Come on, Glados!" she nervously yelled. "Anytime now!" As if on the cue, the intercom crackled, and a robotic voice slurred to life, but Glados didn't exactly sound like himself, and his few intelligible words nearly gave Chell a heart attack.

XXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxxxXX

Success. Glados laid in the pod that was designed to house his body—his spine plugged back into the mainframe—and felt electricity beginning to flow through him. His mind was already transferring back to where it belonged, as expected, and he could feel the system rebooting. Everything was going according to plan, and if a few stray sparks of electricity were jolting his body, it was probably a minor glitch due to the sudden power surge that was accompanying the reboot. It was nothing to worry about, or so he told himself before something that burned like fire shot up his spine.

Half inside of his human body, and half inside of the mainframe, his eyes shot open in pain, but he wasn't only seeing through human eyes anymore. He was aware of being able to operate the facility's cameras yet again, but he was also looking at the glass casing that protected his human body, and operating the cameras despite the pain that assailed him was proving almost impossible. He could even see his own prone body through the lens of one camera, and what he saw made him want to short-circuit, for his body was literally convulsing, blood beginning to trickle from the corners of his mouth. He felt it. He saw it. He tried processing it, but the more that he tried to focus, the more confused he became.

Chell. Where was Chell?

He could see and hear Chell demanding that he turn off the bomb, but something wasn't right. The pain wasn't right, and in using the network to simultaneously check both his mechanical and organic systems, he came across a diagnosis that made his human lips part in a frantic and terrified scream.

He'd inadvertently damaged some of the wires that were meant to plug into his body, and so they weren't properly aligned with his spine and nerves, which would be detrimental to the entire transference process. It must have happened when he'd fallen out of the bed earlier, and now, with the network rebooted and streams of data from everywhere crowding his system, the power surge could not be reversed. His body would burn, and his mind would be destroyed, if he couldn't fully transfer to one shell or the other. His computer mind didn't even know how to process the sensations of touch or pain, and his human body didn't know how to decode footage and info from thousands of inputs.

This was a disaster.

xxxxxXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxXXXX

"Hello, Chell," Glados's electronic voice greeted her. "I will nooooowwww...Some...thing...isn't...riiiiiight." Chell had never heard worse news in her life, and she jumped to her feet, frantic to beat down the jammed doors if necessary. What the hell was she going to do about this damn bomb if Glados wasn't working?

"Glados!" she yelled. "You deactivate that damn bomb right now!" Running toward the doors, she found that the control panel was going nuts. In fact, the entire facility seemed to be going nuts, with security cameras jerking in every which direction, and the computers beeping and flashing like mad. Even the lights were flickering in random patterns, and was that a turret's voice that she'd just heard? Dear god in heaven, she was either going to be melted or shot threw with lasers.

"This time it's not my damn fault!" Chell blurted, pulling a chair toward an air vent to see if she couldn't loosen the screws and attempt to crawl away from this room.

"Five minutes," the bomb announced in a chipper voice, making Chell's stomach clench in fear.

"GLADOS!" She almost had one screw out of the vent, although the metal had cut her fingers in the process. Blood sliding down her digits, she all but clawed at the next screw, further injuring herself as she realized that she would never be able to crawl away fast enough, even if she did get the other screws out. If only she had the portal gun!

"Chel..." Glados's voice buzzed. "Cannot...fix...circuits...tooooooo much...damage." Chell stopped working on the screws and stared upward toward the source of Glados's voice. "Must...disconnect...yo...must deactivate...booooooomb."

"How?"

"disconnect wires...red...green...black...gooooood...don't..."

"Glados?" Chell had jumped down from her chair and was already running toward the bomb, her hands searching for a way to open it. Maybe if she squeezed that little tab there...Aha! Ripping the side panel off, she threw it aside as her hands fumbled to separate the many wires interwoven around the cylinders inside. Almost all of them were yellow, but she could see a red one, and over there was a black one. The green one had to be somewhere beneath this jumble of yellow wires.

"Two minutes remaining," the bomb announced.

"Green!" Chell triumphantly bellowed, collecting the three wires that she needed. Following the red cord's length, she found its base and yanked it free from its connection, followed by the green and then the black wire. The three wires were now laying on the floor, and she held her breath as the timer slowly ceased its countdown, its red digits frozen at 45 seconds as she flopped backward onto the floor with a sigh of relief. Sweaty, stressed, and with aching fingers, she was content to allow herself to merely stare upward and breath.

"Glados, you bastard, I did it." But there was no answer. Something had gone wrong, and she had no idea what. Finally standing, she journeyed toward the closest door and found that it now opened, but the sight that greeted her beyond that door made her heart pound. Cameras were still malfunctioning, and several wall panels that had concealed active guns were now opening and closing in erratic patterns. The entire facility seemed to be going haywire, and there was only one person who knew why or how it could fix it.


	9. Chapter 9: What It Means to be Baked

Chapter 9: What It Means to be Baked

Finding Glados wasn't easy, but after studying a map of the facility, Chell realized that there was a small chamber where Glados's core was housed. She'd always assumed that the room she'd previously destroyed had been the heart of the computer, but there was a safer location that was much harder to reach, and which was protected by numerous security doors and checkpoints. That problem was solved courtesy of her father's password, but the trek itself was dangerous given the now malfunctioning center. She'd barely dodged multiple shots from crazed gun turrets before finally reaching what she assumed led to the the true core of the Enrichment Center's mainframe, and that hadn't even been the worst of it. She might not have come in this direction at all, but the facility's exits were even more tenaciously guarded then Glados's core, and roaming droids with machine guns had quickly turned her away from the one exit that she'd located.

Where was a weapon when she needed one?

Entering her father's code, it seemed to her that this place should be familiar as a door slid open to reveal a room barely larger than her old bedroom, and at its center was a bed that resembled the pod in which she'd originally awoken. As usual, her surroundings were white and orderly, which only made the mess at the room's center more pronounced. Amid loops of hanging wires, flashing computer screens, and broken glass, lay a body, and not just any body, but Glados.

"No wonder the world's gone crazy," Chell breathed, stepping inside the room with her eyes glued on Glados's prone, human form. He was hanging over the side of his bed with wires connected to his spine, small sparks of blue electricity occasionally dancing along the metal there, and his glasses lying on a floor that his dangling fingers barely grazed. On such a floor, the red flecks of blood that formed a spray pattern beneath Glados's open mouth drew her attention, and having never done well with blood, Chell had to concentrate on not thinking about it. Instead, she focused on the jarring smell that was attacking her nose, and some part of her brain identified it as burnt flesh. The hideous scent made her stomach knot with the threat of vomiting.

"Glados?" she softly called, walking forward to examine his back. Some of the wires looked as though they'd forcefully been yanked out of his flesh, but others appeared untouched. Maybe she should just...

"Uh..." Glados breathed, hissing in pain. So he was still alive and somewhat conscious. Uncertain as to her course, Chell followed her intuition and began unplugging the rest of the wires from the man's back, several wires giving her a light shock as she noticed how damaged the skin around Glados's spine was. Blisters had formed in clusters along the metal and bone construct, and the entire stretch of skin had gone a shade of red that made Chell wince just by looking at it.

"Last one," she said, incase Glados could hear her, and then she tossed the wires aside, using her weight to help pull Glados from the bed and onto the floor. He made no sound as she laid him on his stomach and arranged his limbs so that he didn't look quite so awkward, and then she sat beside him, having no idea as to what should be done. An image of a red cross floated through her mind, and she tried to focus on it, remembering something about medicine and bandages. What was that thing called? A first-aid kit? Beaming at her sudden understanding, she stood to search one out, only knowing that it was a good idea to find the little box if someone was injured.

Once Glados was in working order, maybe he could get the dysfunctional turrets and facility in general to quiet down. She certainly didn't fancy the prospects of trying to reach the exits at the other end of the facility with loose cannons on the run, and those droids had looked downright evil with their glowing, red eyes. Plus, there were other things to consider as well...

Chell looked over her shoulder at Glados, and felt something stir deep within her that she quickly recognized as sympathy. He was in such a terrible condition, and while she'd never seen another person in pain before, the sight elicited a reaction that made her somehow share in the experience. She wondered what other meaningful, human experiences she'd been denied due to isolation as she searched for a first-aid kit, but then again, maybe her reactions were abnormal precisely because she didn't have many reference points.

xxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxXXXXx

Everything hurt, and by hurt, Glados actually meant that death would be preferable to being in such an excruciating situation. He didn't even want to open his eyes as he breathed against the cool floor beneath him, a revolting, coppery taste coating his tongue as he tried to remember what had happened. Oh yes, he'd made a grave error by failing to notice that some of his port's wires had been damaged, and...well, a fork in a toaster came to mind. Now, as he wiggled a few of his fingers, he knew for certain that he hadn't been cooked alive, and that he was still in his human form. The mainframe itself had probably taken extensive damage due to his oversight, and the last that he'd checked, he'd still been partially plugged in. No longer though.

Because moving made him want to scream in pain, he didn't do more than open his weary eyes to stare across the white floor. Either he'd somehow gotten out of the bed, or he'd been pulled free, and the latter seemed highly unlikely. He would have calculated the chances of someone, specifically Chell, finding and helping him in enough time to prevent his death, but without a program to automatically run the data for him, he didn't feel like expending the energy. Focusing was generally out of the question as his spine continued to feel as though hot coals were being ground into it.

How bitingly maddening that he'd threatened Chell with starvation, and here he was, the master computer, face down in his own control room, expecting to be stuck here until his body expired. He hadn't even known that this much pain was possible, and he raked his mind for a reference, but none existed. Timothy Stark had never undergone something this painful—nothing even comparable. The most painful thing that his former self had experienced was having an electronic door malfunction and pinch his arm. Perhaps, since this was so painful, he would threaten future, defiant test subjects with being burned alive. Oh, wait, he'd already done that before. No wonder Chell had been so furious with him.

_Click_.

Glados tried to see who had just opened the door, but he couldn't move his neck that far, and rolling over onto his back was out of the question. Instead, he listened to soft footfalls approaching him from behind, something heavy dragging on the ground behind whoever it was.

"Well," Chell announced, surprising Glados. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "I thought that first aid kits were supposed to be small. This isn't very small, but it has the right stuff." Chell, the woman whom he'd tried to bake, now had him at her mercy. If android hell did actually exist, he was already there—a thought that was confirmed when the woman began using medical scissors to cut open the back of his charred outfit.

XXXXXXxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxx

"Glados?" Chell sat by the computer's human body and looked at him with concern. His eyes were open and fixed on her, but he wasn't even saying anything, and she could see the blood oozing from the side of his mouth. "Can you move?" she asked, again feeling an emotional tug that made her want to stop his pain. Wasn't that the right thing to do? She'd never had to think about right and wrong before, during the tests, because there had only been success or failure, survival or death, but she'd wanted someone to help her so badly when she'd been injured. People were suppose to help one another, and she didn't question the idea since she understood so little about such things. The idea of wrong had quickly come to her when she'd originally realized just how disposable she was to Glados, but the idea of right had been much slower in manifesting itself.

"Did you suffer brain damage?" Chell suddenly blurted, realizing that maybe Glados wasn't cognizant, even if he was conscious. The sneer that quickly came over his face gave her an answer, and not knowing how else to comfort the poor man, she brushed loose hair away from his face. "It will be okay," she assured him. "Even though you _did_ almost blow me up, you told me how to disarm the bomb, I guess. But you should be glad that the Enrichment Center is going nuts, or I might have just walked out of here. You should see it. There are turrets having a mini war between themselves down the hallway. They've probably all destroyed each other by now."

"Hurts," Glados managed to mutter.

"I'll do what I can." And Chell opened the massive, plastic container beside her. "I guess labs have big accidents, so they need big first aid kits." Laying the open box down like a suitcase, she rifled through the its contents, glad that the thing had wheels to make it easier to transport. "I might not know exactly why I'm using certain things," she explained, "But sometimes my hands know what to do, even when I don't." Selecting a large bottle and a clean tissue, she poured a clear liquid onto the cloth and scooted closer to Glados's side.

"This might hurt," she softly warned, gently beginning to wipe the burn marks along Glados's back with the disinfectant. She had gleaned enough knowledge from her mind to know that the bloody, cracked skin needed to be cleaned, even if Glados hissed painfully in response to her ministrations. He was obviously trying to stop himself from writhing beneath her hands, and she instinctively slowed her work, using her free hand to soothingly stroke the undamaged skin near his shoulders.

"Just imagine how much pain I would have been in if you'd successfully 'baked me'," she stated, feeling sorry for him, but not so much that she didn't realize how fitting this entire situation was. No, she shouldn't be thinking like that, but Glados did have a talent for aggravating her, and it wasn't like he didn't deserve to know what he put his test subjects through. _But..._

"Glados," Chell began, contemplating something that had never before occurred to her. "You didn't really understand the pain that I was in when the turrets shot me, did you? I mean, theoretically, maybe, but not really. You haven't felt pain in a long time, and my father mentioned that you were having problems relating to humans once you changed. I don't know how much time has passed since then, but..." Glados choked in pain as she reached a particularly nasty patch of burnt skin, and she spoke without thinking. "Sorry."

"How bad?" he gasped, more blood trickling from his mouth and onto the floor, and the red fluid staining one pale cheek, which was pressed into the mess. At least he was barely bleeding. It didn't seem to be serious. Maybe he'd only bitten his tongue or something.

"It's bad," Chell told him. "Really bad. I'm going to put some lotion on your back now. It says here that it will help with inflammation and itchiness. If your back feels a little numb, that's because the lotion's meant to do that." And she began near the base of his spine and worked upward, rubbing the soothing balm into his wounds, and noting that Glados was moving less, and his breathing seemed to be evening out. She imagined that the lotion felt marvelous, for even just on her fingers, there was a cooling sensation that eased the throbbing of her cut fingertips.

"I'm going to need to flip you onto your side now," she cautiously warned him, setting the lotion aside and turning him as carefully as possible. She turned him toward herself, so that his back was gently resting against her torso as she leaned over him, her eyes examining the front of his body. For his part, Glados was watching her, his head angled to rest on the floor, and Chell aware of how distrusting he was of her medical help.

"Take me to medical," he ordered.

"I don't know if I can move you," Chell honestly answered, one of her hands reaching for the zipper on the front of his outfit. She carefully unzipped it to his bellybutton, noting that his front seemed fairly unscathed, but there was something else that caught her eye, and she didn't hesitate to vocalize her discovery.

"Men have hair on their chests?" Glados glared viciously, and Chell quickly re-zipped his outfit, not making eye contact with him as she took a damp cloth to his face, wiping away the blood and gently cleaning his cracked lips. The entire time, she was acutely aware of his eyes on her every movement, and sometimes he winched in pain, but she was doing the best that she could. He must have known that as well, for he kept his negative thoughts to himself, and for a moment, he closed his eyes while she gently supported his head and stroked his cheeks with her other hand. It seemed to calm him, as she'd somehow thought that it would.

"Medical," Glados ordered. "Nanobots can fix my spine."

"Will I be able to operate them?" Chell asked.

"I will tell you how," Glados sighed, Chell laying him back down on his stomach. "It hurts less now...and it appears that you are very useful and not merely destructive, test subject 103." Chell smiled as she closed the first aid kit, feeling rather satisfied with herself.

"Are you trying to thank me, Glados?" she teased.

…

"Well?" she pressed. "And use my real name."

"Thank you, Chell. You have proven adequate at physical care."

_"I guess this is goodbye, Glados," Chell stated, standing at the facility's exit at 2 am. She wasn't suppose to be seen leaving, and with her single suitcase in tow, she was both anxious and reluctant to leave her father behind. "Dad said that I'm not allowed to come back." She looked to the closest security camera for confirmation._

_ "That is correct," Glados stated, his robotic voice buzzing quietly over the intercom system. _

_ "I don't understand why," Chell admitted, "And I know that we haven't talked in a few days but...please make sure that my dad's okay, Glados. It would mean a lot to me, and the only reason that I didn't ask you sooner is that you've been avoiding me. You wouldn't even speak to me when I snuck into your old lab yesterday. I wanted to say goodbye."_

_ "You're saying goodbye now. I fail to see how a variation in a matter of hours would make a difference." Chell laughed humorlessly as she prepared to leave. _

_ "You would say that. Okay then, Glados. This is farewell. Will you look after Patrick?"_

_ "...I will allow him to contact you behind administration's back."_

_ "Thank you, Timothy Stark, Glados, both of you. And goodbye." _

_ "Goodbye, Chell Cohen."_

"You're welcome," Chell quietly spoke, shaking her head clear of the memory. "Now, how do you suggest that I get you to medical?"

"Since I am sure that you cannot carry me, and I will _not_ be dragged, you will need to use the portal gun. It is down the hall in Lab 4. The code to disarm security is 6557. Failure to disarm security will result in a painful death."

"Thanks for the tip," Chell rolled her eyes, feeling a bit excited about having the portal gun back in her possession. The idea brought a sense of security to her entire topsy-turvy existence. "I'll be right back." And she left, feeling Glados watching her back for as long as possible. He had once told her that he'd only ever spared her life because of his connection to her father, and yet, her most recent memory made her feel as though the computer had again lied to her. She had asked him to protect her father, and Glados had also mentioned attempting to spare her father's life when the neurotoxin was released. Had that been for her sake or her father's though? No, the former wasn't possible, and yet...a plutonic friendship, huh? If Glados had spared her once, why had he decided to use her as a test subject? Why had he decided to 'bake' her?

"Stop thinking about it," she ordered herself. "You're going to get your memories back. Then you'll understand." But even then, she wondered if her past self hadn't been just as confused when it came to Glados. Maybe Glados was the only one who held the answers to this puzzle, and he might not even understand his own, previously more human reasoning anymore. Perhaps the answers that she so sought had been lost forever.

XXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxXXXXxxxx

A/N: another chapter! Enjoy it, even if it is short. As I'm sure you know, an injured Glados won't be the most grateful patient, even if he is totally incapacitated.


	10. Chapter 10: This is Us

Chapter 10: This is Us

The smell of something good was coming from the kitchen, causing Glados to lift his head from the array of pillows scattered about him, and sniff the air while his stomach grumbled. Smell was another interesting aspect of having a body, and it was amazing how a simple smell could trigger multiple physiological reactions, from his stomach growling to his mouth watering. He thought about this newfound knowledge and realized that what he was experiencing was hunger, which was an unpleasant sensation that he planned on forgetting as soon as he was fully restored.

How long had he been in this body now? Almost three days, and the last 24 hours had been spent face down on a bed with Chell rubbing lotion into his burns every four hours or so. He was quite vocal about demanding it as well, pointing out that incinerating her would have been relatively quick, whereas his suffering was being prolonged. Considering the sharp slap that he'd received in response, she apparently hadn't found his argument very convincing, but she _had_ been attending to him, and the feel of her hands on his back was quickly becoming his favorite part of being in a body. There was something wonderful about the way that she knew exactly how much pressure to apply, and sometimes, if he was being nice, she massaged his shoulders, which felt truly amazing.

Realizing that he was going off on a tangent, Glados scowled at himself. He shouldn't like anything about being stuck in a human body, least of all this test subject who had suspiciously devoted herself to caring for him. He knew what it was like to be cared for, for technicians had once regularly checked and repaired parts of his extended, electronic body, and Patrick had especially taken care to ensure that he was in working order, but this was different. Chell wasn't a technician, and unlike a technician, she didn't merely do what she was ordered to, but tried to make him comfortable while she did it as well. These pillows were a fine example, as well as the fact that despite his doubts, she appeared to be making something edible to sustain both of them.

Sighing, Glados willed his stomach to stop growling to no success. This was as bad as the time when one of his hard drive's had become corrupted, and the resulting mess had scrambled and cluttered his system for almost an hour. It had been that bad, but back then he'd been capable of fixing himself. Now, laying in this bed, he could walk if he wished to, but it was still incredibly painful, and Chell had already told him that if he tried forcing her to do anything ever again, she'd deal a swift kick to his injured spine. Taller and bigger than her or not, restraining her at this point was out of the question.

"What is that smell?" he loudly asked, unable to wait any longer. He couldn't match smell to objects anymore, and the very idea of eating struck him as strange. Hopefully whatever it was tasted better than coffee. Chell had given him some coffee to try, and he might be able to understand the most complicated, scientific theories, but he could not comprehend how Timothy Stark had drank coffee everyday of his life since age sixteen.

"Maybe I'm making a cake," Chell called back.

"Are you using my recipe?" He didn't know what cake tasted like, but he knew that it was good, which was why he'd used it to motivate test subjects.

"Nope," Chell answered, amusement in her voice. "The cake's a lie." Huffing disdainfully, Glados let his head flop back into the pillows. Coffee was bad, but sleeping was actually quite nice. It was like being defragmented only better, and he was no longer worried about someone hurting him while he was asleep either. Chell, for all of her other flaws, had been nothing but attentive to him since he'd incurred injury, which might puzzle him, but he wasn't complaining.

"I found some old spices in the cupboard," Chell continued. "And you won't believe this, but I even found some canned kidney beans, so we're having spicy beans and rice. I didn't know what spices to use though, so I just kept trying things until it tasted good. It's almost done. I'm waiting for the rice." Moments later, Chell was sitting on the edge of the bed with two bowls of steaming food and looking quite proud of herself.

"I think that I'm kind of good at cooking," she boasted, setting the bowls on the small bedside table. "Are you ready to be moved?" This was going to be painful, but Glados muttered a yes into his pillow, and then her hands were on him again. Her touch was familiar by now, and if he didn't know better, Chell actually liked touching him. She seemed as interested in the sensation as he did, but she never talked about it, and he wasn't about to admit that he enjoyed being cared for. So he kept his mouth sealed, gritting his teeth against the pain as she gently turned him over, helping to prop him up against a mass of pillows before passing him a bowl and spoon.

"Try it," she happily insisted, watching his face. Glados sniffed the food first, and then he slowly lifted a spoonful to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing.

"It's good," he admitted. "Taste is a very satisfying sense. This explains why administration had vending machines installed in almost every hallway." Chell was laughing, and he didn't even care, because he was too busy inhaling her food. His stomach was feeling better already, and it only occurred to him afterwards that humans sometimes killed each other with poison. Suspiciously eyeing Chell, he asked about the possibility in a way that he thought was rather subtle, but Chell was smirking like he'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"Poison?" she asked. "Why would I poison you? If I wanted to kill you, I'd use the portal gun to send you to same place that the companion cube went."

"But that would mean...oh." And he set his bowl aside with a serious expression. He was thinking that he might need to make another trip to that horrible but necessary place called a bathroom, but that could wait for a while yet. He did not like walking, and Chell had been fairly nervous, embarrassed, and interested when he'd explained his problem to her. He hadn't even known that the pressure in his lower body required a trip to the bathroom before she'd explained it, and then it had all made sense. She'd also muttered something about suddenly remembering the details of male anatomy and what could be done with it, but she'd refused to say anything more about the subject. All in all, she actually seemed to be aware of quite a bit despite her memory being hindered.

"Now that we've eaten," Chell commented. "We're going on a trip."

"A trip?" Glados questioned. " I am hardly in any condition for a trip, and we have yet to discuss what has become of our deal."

"There's no deal anymore," Chell sharply stated. "Not after the bomb, and don't glare at me. It's your own fault that you're so injured, unless you were lying to me about what happened..." When he didn't answer, she continued, sounding quite confident and even threatening. "I don't have to take care of you, Glados, and now that you're feeling a bit better, we're going back to that lab, and you're going to give me my memories back. I'll use the portal gun so that you don't need to walk very far. And then, once I remember everything, I might just leave you here to die, but you're going to have to take that risk."

"So the truth behind your attempt to play nurse comes out," Glados smugly concluded. "You have taken care of me with the sole intent of forcing me to help you. I will never understand why you think that you're better than me, or why you had the right to murder me. You have proven my assumption that you are not a good person correct by doing this." His words seemed to stun Chell, who stared at him slack-jawed before snapping her mouth shut with a glare. Oh dear, now he'd angered her.

"I'm _not_ a bad person," she declared. "I did what I had to for survival, and you are a cruel bastard to twist that around. At least you know who you are. When you have your memory erased and can't even let go of someone who tried to kill you because you feel so alone and lost that you just want someone to share time with—then you tell me that I'm a bad person for wanting even the simplest memories about myself! I can't even remember what you meant to me, and I don't know what my mother looked like, or what my sister's voice sounded like, and all of the memories that come back have to deal with you—you, who cannot even begin to understand what it's like to wake up confused in a new world and be forced by someone who views you as a test subject—as a nothing!-to fight for your existence and worth. Don't even try to equate the two of us!"

Chell stood and stormed out of the room, her voice strained as she slammed the door behind her, and leaving Glados sitting on the bed and staring into space. Her words echoed through his mind and triggered memories that he did not like revisiting. Even now, being referred to as a mere computer angered him, and there were certain aspects of his past that he'd willfully filed away to be ignored—aspects that were stuck beneath so many layers of data that he could not dwell on them, and over time, many had come to mean nothing to him anymore, but time and digitalization could not erase everything. Some concepts and experiences still stung and offended, and in a human body where human memories could not be so easily removed from his identity, Glados found himself remembering.

_"You, who cannot even begin to understand what it's like to wake up confused in a new world and be forced by someone who views you as a test subject—a nothing!-to fight for your existence and worth..." _

But Chell was wrong. He knew exactly what that felt like, and like her, it had angered him. It still did at times, and if he was honest with himself, there had been a time, when he'd just become a computer, that he had even been depressed over such a reality as she'd described. It had been long ago, but not forgotten despite his best efforts, and now he was alone, sitting in a bed that belonged to someone who could and perhaps should kill him before he betrayed her yet again. Soon Chell would remember exactly who she was, and when she did, what would she conclude, and what would happen to him?

The tears didn't start until a good twenty minutes later, once Chell had cleaned the kitchen and the anger had worn off. How dare Glados try to marginalize her situation and make her sound like some murderous, selfish person! She should have expected as much, and normally she would have brushed it aside, but sitting there with him and hearing those words had hit a soft spot this time. And here she'd been thinking that they were getting along so much better than before. Of course, he was still the lying computer who only wanted to use her, but the way that he'd leaned into her touch and relaxed when she'd helped him had made her think that maybe he wasn't totally unfeeling. Now he'd worked her into a terrible mood, and all because she'd actually allowed herself to be happy and enjoy cooking for the two of them. It had been so pleasant to just hang about the apartment and playfully goad each other.

"I can't believe this!" she spat, throwing the framed photo that she'd been looking at into the wall. Maybe she did have some temper problems, but throwing the picture felt better than the tears that were streaming down her cheeks and choking her mind. She wanted to simply leave the facility by this point, but she was going to force Glados to return her memories first. If she was indeed a bit underhanded and treacherous, as he claimed, it was only because she had to keep a step ahead of him or end up being baked or something equally unpleasant. The moment that he no longer needed her, he would dispose of her, but then again, there was the bomb to consider.

Chell breathed deeply as she collected the portal gun and left the apartment. Glados himself had confessed that he'd never expected her to find or even help him after his failed attempt to reconnect to the mainframe, so there had been no reason for him to tell her how to disarm the bomb. In fact, letting her be blown up since he would also likely die sounded exactly like something that he would do, and yet, he hadn't done that. He'd managed to remain conscious long enough to help her save herself, and then he'd been hanging over that bed, waiting to die.

_One moment he wants to kill me, and the next he's helping. _

Chell shook her head and strode toward the lab where the secrets to her mind were held. She'd already left a portal in the apartment, so bringing Glados to the lab wouldn't be difficult. If he tried anything, she was going to drop him through a portal in the ceiling, or at least fantasize about doing so. The longer she walked, the more her head cleared, until she could honestly think about her anger and what she could potentially do to Glados, and with frustration, she tried to let the anger go. Glados couldn't really help the way that he was given his transformation, but she'd hoped that being in a body again might have altered some of his perceptions. If he felt pain again, it made sense that he might become capable of empathizing.

_Fat chance._

Chell found the memory lab and created a new portal, using it to step back through into her apartment, and then she opened her bedroom door. Glados was still sitting there, looking quite unhappy about something, and he didn't even offer her a greeting.

"You've been crying," he observed.

"Nice of you to notice. Let's go." He attempted to stand, but faltered, causing Chell to automatically rush to his side and wrap an arm around his torso. She hated how much she loved being in contact with him, but she enjoyed it at the same time, finding that helping him made her feel better as well. And so they stumbled toward the portal together, Glados leaning against her until she directed him toward a chair by the lab's central machine. He was obviously in pain, but he could apparently focus enough to power up the equipment with some quick button mashing.

"You will need to lay down over there," Glados instructed, not even trying to argue with her about being forced to aid her. He merely watched Chell as she set aside the portal gun and did as instructed. She had barely gotten comfortable when the bed that she lay on began to move, the machine buzzing as she was slid inside of it, and the white cylinder around her lighting up with the small, circular bulbs that fully encased her. She stared at each set of lights as she passed them, nervous despite having an expert like Glados running the machine, and wondered how long this would take. She wasn't claustrophobic, but she certainly felt trapped inside such a tight space and without the portal gun.

"Look straight up," Glados commanded, his voice barely audible. "Clear your mind and try not to move." Chell swallowed and closed her eyes, imagining herself in a bed, getting ready to sleep for the night. A buzzing noise soon began to fill her ears, causing her to tense, but she let the tension go as a warm sensation began to build within her body. Lights flashed brightly through her eyelids, and focusing became difficult as a million images began to play before her, each scene building with emotions and thoughts that penetrated her mind. There were so many that she couldn't even begin to decipher them, and yet, they all made perfect sense.

_"You didn't let that boy kiss you, did you?" her mother demanded._

_ "No, mom," Chell vehemently stated. "We just held hands. I don't even know if it's safe to kiss someone with braces! Oh, come on. Why are you laughing?"_

Yes, Chell knew these things. They were familiar, but like watching a movie, she felt strangely detached from the scenes, even as she felt emotions and a connection to her younger self.

_"So what are you doing in Italy?" the young waitress asked, practicing her English. _

_ "Oh, I'm just enjoying the sun," Chell smiled, but she wasn't truly happy. "I've always wanted to travel by myself."_

_ "How long are you staying?"_

_ "Not long. My father will miss me. He doesn't think that I'm coming back anytime soon, but..." Chell looked out across the city's crowded streets and the bustling tourists, and felt utterly alone in the crowd. "I miss him. I have to go back...for both of us." And the waitress didn't really understand, but Chell didn't expect anyone to, not even her own father. _

Italy, what a beautiful place. There had been trees and grass, and suddenly Chell even knew the names of different flowers and what they smelled like. She could see roses on Valentine's Day, and she could remember bending over and picking violets in her grandparent's back yard, and the lilies at the funeral for those same relatives. She knew what it was like to feel the breeze in her hair when riding a bike, and she knew what it was like to blow out candles on a birthday cake, but these things somehow seemed less significant than she'd hoped. Images poured into her mind, but they were not the most important ones. No, she was looking for something specific amid these visions, even as she treasured each and every one of them.

_Chell pressed her ear to the crack in the door, eavesdropping on her father as he talked to Glados. It had been almost two months since Stark had undergone his transformation, and her father regularly came here to speak with his old friend, but he'd never told Chell about that. So she'd followed him, knowing that there were no cameras outside of this door that would alert Glados to her presence unless he was really paying attention. _

_ "You're not really happy with this, are you, Timothy?" her father softly spoke. _

_ "I was unhappy several weeks ago, but now I'm not sure," Glados's robotic voice confessed. "I don't think that happiness matters very much anymore. It's like something that I can't quite remember. Data makes me happy. Results make me happy. This abstract happiness that you speak of...I can barely remember it." And Chell's heart cracked in horrified sadness, causing her to hide as her father left the room to return to his lab. Then, slipping into the room that he'd left only moments before, she crept forward and laid a hand on the glass shield that protected the now useless body of Timothy Stark. _

_ "Why are you here, Chell?" the computer immediately inquired. _

_ "I just..." But Chell never finished answering him, because she was crying, her tears dripping onto and sliding down the sides of the glass case before her. Laying her head against the cool surface, Glados didn't appear to have anything to say, and she really did think of him as Glados now. He preferred that name anyway, allowing only her father to call him by his true name. _

_ "You are getting my equipment wet," the computer chided her. "Now honestly, Chell. What are you doing here?" _

_ "I bought another book to show you. It's not scientific, but you always used to talk about liking science fiction." True to her word, she pulled a small book out of her purse and held it up to the closest camera. _

_ "Why have you not simply digitalized it then?" Glados asked._

_ "I was going to read it aloud," Chell confessed, having spent increasingly more time with Glados since his creation. They argued and sniped at each other a lot, but she never stayed away for long. _

_ "Aloud?" Glados asked. _

_ "You always liked audio books to play while you were working in your lab. I thought that maybe you'd liked to be read to again. You did admit that I have a nice voice."_

_ "When you're not talking like an idiot," Glados qualified. _

_ "Yes, well, there is that. I'm going to start now." Chapter one began, and she leaned against his encased bed as she read, her tears drying as Glados listened, sometimes stopping her to ask if the author provided footnotes for his scientific theories. It was only after an hour, when Chell's voice began to grow weak, that Glados commented on something else._

_ "Why, Chell?" _

_ "Because..." Her voice trailed off as she shut the book. "Because I thought that it would make you happy." Glados didn't answer, but he did make her promise to come back to read chapter two the next day. _

With a gasp, Chell's eyes flew open, moist and full of understanding as the buzzing around her slowed to a standstill. Within a few months after that conversation with Glados, the man-turned-computer truly had forgotten what simple happiness was, and Chell had found speaking with him more difficult than ever. But she'd never stopped seeking him out. She'd been too alone and needy to stop, and he...well, he'd needed her too. Now she understood.

xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxXXXXXx

Glados sat at the control panel and mutely listened to the machine doing its work. Soon Chell would remember everything, and he had no idea how it would affect her or himself. She'd always been easier to treat as a mere test subject once she had no memories, for she hadn't really been Chell, or so he'd thought. Her personality hadn't changed, and then she'd started talking to him, insisting that they chat throughout the tests, and for the most part, it hadn't affected him. His personal connection to her had waned considerably over the years, and so he hadn't stopped the scientists from meddling with her head in the first place, and he _would_ have killed her in the end, for what else could he have done with her? It wouldn't have been logical to spare her at the end of the tests, but after she'd escaped the fire, she'd stopped being just a test subject.

Glados frowned until he was certain that his mouth would never recover. Outside of the testing environment, she'd broke the simple programming pattern and rules by which that he'd decided to operate: every test subject was only an object for science, and to be used and then impartially disposed of. The program couldn't be applied outside of the testing rooms though, and it had become increasingly harder to think of Chell as a lab rat, especially when she'd started arguing with him. To handle the arguments and understand her logic, he'd decoded the very files that he'd once intentionally shunted to the side in order to depersonalize her. The result had been an inability to deny her identity and their connection any longer, and furthermore, decoding the encrypted files had meant accepting what had made him encrypt them in the first place.

Glados gritted his teeth in frustration, remembering how he'd hidden files from himself in order to protect his mind from certain tendencies. Becoming a computer had not been easy when people wanted to strip him of his identity, and the situation had already been difficult enough given a longing for touch and human interaction. Over time, those longings had faded of their own accord, but Chell had refused to treat him any differently than she had when he'd been human. She'd become the one that spoke to him as if he weren't just a machine, and who, instead of feeling guilty like Patrick had, had been content to give him hell as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed, and as he sensed himself losing more and more of his humanity, he'd worried that he might harm the one person who still made him feel like a person. So he'd told her never to come back, so that he could fully become machine without being reminded of who'd he'd been. Painful? Yes, but he'd deemed it necessary and the only logical conclusion to his increasing distance from humans.

But he'd never truly left his human self behind. It was always there, even if he couldn't relate to people, and now he was back in this body, and he desperately wanted to be free from it. He was remembering everything that he'd missed about having a body and being human, and if he grew attached to it, going back would be as painful as the first time. He didn't need or want that, especially since he never even considered the possibility of staying in this body. He still couldn't relate well to other people, and his thinking was so robotic now—detached from sympathy and compassion. He had missed Chell when she'd left, and that had been the greatest and most detrimental shock to his electronic system that he'd ever received. Even when she'd been in the testing rooms, the data surrounding that bit of knowledge had boggled him, forcing him to slowly admit certain realities that would likely never change.

The machine before him began to slow, and then the bed within it was sliding outward to release a newly restored Chell. Glados hung his head and wished to deny everything.

xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxXXXXXXXxx

Chell stood up slowly and walked toward Glados, who still sat at the control panel. She felt oddly calm considering the load that had just been added to her mind, but for once she felt more balanced, although she still had her questions. Looking at the man staring back at her, something akin to nervousness in his posture and eyes, she saw Glados in an entirely new light.

"I remember everything," she smoothly voiced. "My family, school, parties, friends, everything." Glados didn't even blink, but just kept fixing her with that unnerving stare of his. "But those aren't the most important things," and here she offered him a sad smile. "It's strange, because I know that these are my memories, and they'll affect my decisions and thoughts, but I don't really feel like that Chell anymore. I guess when we grow up, time is so gradual that change doesn't stand out, but I've just seen everything at once. I can't say that I'm not who I was, but I don't feel like that woman anymore. This Chell isn't the same." With a shaky laugh, she leaned against the memory machine and stared at the floor, still feeling Glados's eyes on her.

"I guess we really aren't so different, after all," she decided. "Who would have thought?"

"So..." Glados seemed unsure of himself, fidgeting in his seat in an uncharacteristic show of distress. Perhaps now he understood what fear was. "You no longer need me."

"No, I don't," Chell agreed. "And by rights, I should let you die. It seems to me that you're too far gone to even bother with anymore. I should have known that from your attempt to bake me." She straightened and met his dark eyes, which were anything but the eyes of the Stark that had once given her hell for living here. That Stark had never looked this conflicted and nervous in his life. His insecurities and fears had only become obvious after he'd taken a plunge that, it seemed to her, no human was capable of happily undergoing.

"I never thought of you as a machine, Glados," she exhaled, blue eyes again becoming moist with unshed tears. "Not once, even when I had no memories and was a test subject. You were always real and alive to me, and what your supposed friends did to you—how they wanted to pretend that you were nothing but a tool—that made me angry. I was angry for you, and...it doesn't matter." She shook her head. "No. It _does_ matter, but maybe not to you...not anymore." She looked to him for some type of response, but he seemed incapable of giving her one. He lowered his gaze and swallowed, doing everything possible not to appear as helpless as he currently looked.

"You cared," he finally stated, his eyes closed. "You never cared before, but then you did, and it didn't even matter anymore. You weren't suppose to come back, Chell. You were suppose to go away and let me become what I am." Chell walked closer to him, and he flinched when she lifted her hand, but she was only running her fingers through his dark hair.

"I don't feel anything about anyone from Stark's life anymore," he continued. "But you...you didn't become important to me until after I changed. You weren't just a former acquaintance of the dying Timothy Stark. You wanted to be friends with Glados...with me. You knew that I was changing, but you wouldn't let go." Chell pulled him to lean against her chest, her nose buried in his hair as he tensed as though she might be trying to kill him.

"I'm not going to just leave you here, Glados," she whispered. "It might be the greatest mistake of my life, but I'm not leaving you to die."


	11. Chapter 11: Our Past, Our Future

Chapter 11: Our Past, Our Future

She watched him sleep from where she sat on the opposite side of the bed, the room darkened and her bleary eyes blinking back fatigue. It had been a long day, and she wanted to sleep, but there were still so many fresh memories to sort through—memories of coming to the Enrichment Center and her relationship with Stark and then Glados. With Stark, she had been a nuisance who constantly seemed at odds with him, and she had to admit that she'd intentionally antagonized the man, even if they'd had some friendly moments that still meant a lot to her. Then he'd become Glados, and she'd been happy to have Stark out of her hair only to realize that without him, no one really paid attention to her. Without him, she was practically without social connection in the facility, and soon after, she'd realized that Glados had a habit of spying on her.

"You were the reason that my laundry came out ruined," she whispered with a smile, remembering how her favorite dress had been destroyed when a drying machine caught fire. When she'd loudly blamed Glados, he'd suddenly spoken over the intercom to claim innocence, and that had been the first time that she'd realized how closely he watched her. There had been moments when she'd truly abused that knowledge, like stripping naked with her boyfriend in an area where she knew he would be watching. It had meant more to her that Glados couldn't help but watch than her intimacy with the boy had. She hadn't even wanted to have sex with the young man, but he'd been insistent, and she'd been hungry for affection.

What had slowly evolved between herself and Glados after that point, she couldn't completely define or describe, but they'd become what she would have called close. He had been the most meaningful person in her life, even after he'd started becoming less human. He'd refused to talk to most people unless it was business related, but not with her. Even when he no longer seemed to understand what affection or friendship meant, he'd always conversed with her, even seeking her out at strange moments to ask questions about human displays and emotion. She'd become his link to the human world, explaining trends and concepts that he could no longer completely grasp. Of course, he was great at faking understanding and using humanity against people, but she'd seen through his lies. She'd seen how much he clung to what she offered, only to be sent away, which had truly hurt her.

"I thought that you didn't want me around anymore," she whispered.

"I didn't," Glados answered, his eyes opening. "Are you going to sleep now? You're disrupting my rest." Chell sighed and flopped down onto her back.

"My mind won't let me sleep," she confessed. "There's too much to think about. Why _did_ you send me away, Glados? I'll go to sleep once you tell me."

"It was better that way," he simply stated. "Things were less complicated once you were gone."

"What do you...?"

"I answered," he smugly insisted. "Goodnight, Chell." Annoyed, Chell closed her eyes, but not before her hand meandered over toward Glados of its own accord. Fingers intwined with his, she finally dozed off, but even in sleep, her newly acquired memories would not grant her peace.

…

…

…

The code worked beautifully, and Chell was once again inside the facility, despite Glados's orders that she never return. But how could she stay away? She'd visited her sister for a week or so, but that had only made her more aware of how wrong it was that she was forbidden to see her father. He might have made some very foolish decisions for the family, but that didn't make him a bad person. It certainly didn't mean that he deserved to be stuck in a facility without any family as he watched his only true friend descend into a machine. It was cruel and unfair, and as soon as she got him out of here, Chell was going to expose Aperture Science for its shady research ethics and maltreatment of employees.

"What are you doing here?" a familiar, electronic voice buzzed. "You don't have clearance."

"Glados?" Chell asked, turning to find a security camera focused on her. They hadn't spoken in so long... "I had to come back, Glados," she continued. "My father..."

"You don't have proper authorization," Glados coldly continued.

"Come on!" Chell sighed in frustration. "Don't talk to me like I'm just some intruder."

"We had a deal, Chell."

"Glados."

"You broke the deal. Security already knows that you're here. You have ten minutes to leave before it is too late." Chell couldn't believe her ears, and was surprised that her eyes were watering. How could he do this to her? Had he lost everything that had made him human by now? The very idea made her throat tighten in a mixture of dread and regret. Maybe, if she'd stayed...

"You should leave, Chell."

"I can't..."

"Seven minutes." She could here security coming closer, but she didn't retreat. She looked for a place to hide. Maybe Glados would rat her out, and maybe he wouldn't even care,but she would take her chances.

"Glados, please tell me where Patrick is. I have to find him."

"I can't do that. You need to leave. If you stay, you will not like what happens to you." But Chell didn't leave. She ran, but she did not leave, and when security captured her, she screamed for Glados to save her. He never said a word—not when she was locked in a cell, and not when the scientists decided to use her as a test subject. She'd known that they were removing her memories, and she'd cried and raged—beating anyone who tried to touch her, and always attempting to contact her father. But there was never a chance, and then, one day, she couldn't even remember who her father was. She was given a number, and she was locked in a padded, white room until she was needed for testing. She'd been miserable and forgotten, confused and without identity, or so she'd thought...

"Test subject 103," the facility's voice buzzed. Chell sat bolt upright, confused by the sudden attention. She'd never been addressed by the computer before, and she'd rarely heard his voice. Now she huddled near her bed and stared at the camera above her in fear.

"Yes?" she shakily asked.

"A deadly neurotoxin will be released in approximately thirty minutes. You will now be sedated and transported to human storage, where you will be placed into suspended animation. That is all." Chell heard the hiss of gas entering her chamber, and then she was becoming dizzy, barely aware of the man who stepped into the room to collect her.

"Chell," the man breathed, his voice cracking. "My dear daughter...you should have told me sooner, Timothy." But there was no answer, and Patrick Cohen carried his daughter to a gurney and quickly moved her to storage, where Glados promised that she would be spared. With blurry eyes, Chell stared up at the man that she did not recognize as her own father, and she felt his lips press a quick kiss to her forehead. It was a nice feeling, and she liked the loving way that the man stared down at her as he gently arranged her on a padded bed.

"You'll be fine, my angel," the man whispered. "I think that I can die happy having seen you again, and Timothy promised me that you'll be okay. I thought that he was completely gone, but this...and you...you have always given me such hope, Chell. Whatever happens, you'll be alright..." Chell didn't hear the rest as she closed her eyes, but she didn't want to sleep. She wanted to stay with the nice man. No one else had ever treated her so tenderly...

…

…

…

Glados opened his eyes to stare at Chell as she slept. Her fingers were wrapped around his own, but the sensation did not seem to be calming her right now. She was sound asleep, but not peacefully, as her fingers constantly twitched, and her face scrunched into almost pained expressions as she began to shiver. He wondered what she was dreaming about, and wondered why his dreams were always so nonsensical. He hadn't dreamed in so long, and now, when he found himself asleep, he was running and working in his lab, switching views between security cameras as he viewed the most ridiculous scenes.

"Dad..." Chell mumbled, her head jerking to the side.

"You had to come back," Glados whispered, a hint of anger in his voice, but his anger quickly faded when Chell moved closer to him, her head resting against his shoulder. Soon he too fell asleep, and in the morning, when he awoke, both of his hands were enveloped in hers.

xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxXXXxx

"So you still want to be connected to the mainframe?" Chell asked while eating pasta for breakfast.

"Of course," Glados huffed with a frown. "Why wouldn't I want to be back in my proper body?" His answer saddened her, but Chell said nothing, choosing to focus on eating instead. "I will certainly no longer be required to eat such bland food once I am back to normal."

"I didn't feel like cooking, okay?" Chell defended herself. "You act like I'm your maid."

"Don't be ridiculous," Glados shot back. "A maid would not hit me with a pillow to get me out of bed." Chell smiled around her spoon, feeling remarkably at ease with this new banter. Things had become...easier since the return of her memories. She was far more comfortable in her own skin for starters, and she had a better grip on Glados as well, now knowing for certain that he did not see her as a mere test subject. He didn't like to talk about his convoluted relationship with her, of course, but she could feel how readily he held her hand, and his jibes seemed less threatening and more casual. In many ways, she felt like she'd finally regained the most meaningful person in her life, and he didn't deny that he enjoyed her company either. He was merely reluctant to admit it.

"So how do we fix the mainframe and get you reconnected?" she asked. "The facility is still going a bit crazy."

"I'll correct that," Glados stated. "But I will need assistance with fixing the damaged cords that will connect me to the mainframe. Then I will plug myself in, and you will reboot the system." He finished his pasta and stared at her, examining her sober face. "Do you no longer fear that I will kill you once I am rebooted?" he pressed. "You seem to have some reservations despite your...knowledge." Chell tossed her spoon into her bowl and leaned back in her chair at the table.

"I'm reluctant for two reasons," she explained, finding that she did not want to look at Glados as she explained this. "I know that you don't like talking about it, but..." She inhaled and fixed her eyes on her empty bowl. "We spent a lot of time together after you left your body. I read to you, and you used to give me elevator priority." That memory made her smile, for she could picture the angry faces of other staff members when the elevator bypassed their floor to pick her up. "We fought, but I thought...I thought that we were friends."

"You earned elevator preference," Glados commented, frowning.

"What do you mean?" Chell asked, confused.

"October 15, 10:42 pm. The facility wanted to give my old office away to someone whom I'd always despised."

"Wayne Torre," Chell knowingly supplied.

"Correct. They were going to give my office to that unoriginal whelp, but they didn't clean it out beforehand. Patrick didn't know, but you did, and you caught Dr. Torre rooting through my incomplete research files. You beat him out of the room with your shoe, and then you hid my files."

"They're still under my bed," Chell recalled.

"So you see," Glados concluded. "You earned elevator priority, and I enjoyed angering my old colleagues anyway. It wasn't personal." Chell finally looked at him, finding his face downturned, and his expression solemn.

"Not personal, huh?" she challenged, crossing her arms across her chest as she leaned back. "Just like saving me from the neurotoxin wasn't personal? That kind of impersonal? Or maybe you mean impersonal like the time that my boyfriend didn't accept our breakup and came after me. You slammed a door in his face, and he was locked in there for a whole two days. Oh, and let's not forget the time that I fell and hurt my back in a staircase in the dead of the night. You never said anything, but a medic showed up to help me within fifteen minutes. Impersonal my ass, Glados."

Chell finished her argument and grew quiet, closing her eyes with a sigh as she leaned further into her chair. "Why are you so desperate to deny that we kept each other company" she softly asked.

"You made everything harder," Glados snapped, although she could tell that his anger wasn't genuine. He seemed more frustrated than anything. "You always made everything harder. You still do, by the way, and I won't hold out any hope for the future."

"Would you have been happier if I'd simply ignored you?" Chell countered. "I could have dismissed you like everyone else did. I didn't need to read to you, or sit in your control room and tell you about the plans that administration was making behind your back in those sealed rooms. Despite what you might say, I considered you a friend—my only friend—and it hurt like hell when I came back and you refused to acknowledge me. You let me rot in that cell without any memories. You never spoke to me even once." Her hands were gripped together on her lap, but not in anger. She let her nails dig into her skin until it hurt, if only to distract her from the sadness that was still so strong. It was amazing how easily these emotions had returned with her memories.

"Anyway," she swallowed, shaking her eyes clear. "If you could let those men do that to me despite our 'tolerably plutonic relationship', I can't completely convince myself that you won't do something like that again. I won't leave you to die, but that doesn't meant that I don't have concerns anymore."

"I saved you from the neurotoxin," Glados reminded her. "And I gave you a chance to leave. You refused, so you got what you deserved." He was looking away from her, sounding sincerely annoyed and offended. Chell inwardly admitted that he was right, but he'd honestly tried to kill her at the end of the portal testing. Maybe he'd finally distanced himself enough from her to do such a thing by that point. He certainly expressed reservations about what they'd shared, and he'd sent her away to...

"Things were less complicated when you were gone."

_"He's scared of losing his humanity."_

Chell felt a sharp retort dying on her lips as she had the urge to reach out and hug her moody companion. This was exactly why she couldn't just let him starve to death.

"I promise," Glados suddenly spoke, sounding resigned. "I promise that I won't attempt to kill you, or in any way put you in a situation where something else will kill you. You are correct in pointing out that you do not have to help me, but you are still here. Perhaps I should be thankful that you are indulging in yet another display of your complete inability to act logically."

"I'm emotional, remember?" Chell goaded him.

"Precisely," Glados nodded. "And who knows what damage you will do to the facility if I should try to destroy you again. Therefore you may leave when I am reconnected to the network...for the sake of science and the facility."

"Of course," Chell sarcastically smiled.

"You said that you had another reason for being reluctant. Well? We are wasting time."

"I'm reluctant," Chell confessed. "Because I don't really want you to be rebooted, and what about you?"

"I assure you that I am in favor of being rebooted and will not regret my decision. The sooner that I am rebooted, the better."

"But _I_ might regret it," Chell explained.

"Oh," Glados shortly answered, his face downcast as he traced the inside of his bowl with a spoon. "In other words, you still fear that I will make you regret this by killing you afterwords, despite my rare, honest promise."

"Not really," Chell admitted. "Oh, and I'm keeping the portal gun with me, further testing needed or not. Don't even attempt to argue with me about that." Glados unhappily clamped his mouth shut. "But...maybe I like you in a human body, Glados. Even when I leave," they didn't even talk as if she wouldn't anymore, "You're the only one I have left, and since you've admitted that...I'm trying to say that I'll miss you, Glados. And if you're honest, you'll miss me too. If you reboot to the network, you'll be alone in here, and I can't just stay and live here forever."

"You could," Glados breathed, sounding as if the admission pained him. The fact that he was even suggesting that she stay actually warmed Chell's heart. "The outside world isn't safe for you. You'd be better off here. Safer. I would order high-quality food for you."

"It's not that simple. I need more than food," Chell explained. "I need company, and..."

"I _am_ company," Glados argued, still refusing to meet her gaze. He looked agitated as he sent quick, nervous glances in her direction, one of his hands brushing dark hair away from his face. "My company was enough when you lived here before. I watched you all the time. I always knew where you were, and you never spent remarkable quantities of time with anyone else, not even that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. His broken arm was not an accident, I might add."

"Glados," Chell sighed. "You should know by now that people need something physical. They need...touch—someone that they can hold hands with and lean against."

"Companion cube," Glados desperately tried, but even she could see that he was grasping at straws. "Or maybe I could return to my human body every once in a while. No. What am I saying? I think that your illogical nature is rubbing off on me," he complained. "All the more reason to get out of this body. You're contaminating me."

"Well, it was worth a try," Chell spoke to herself. "I guess that we should fix the facility now. We can talk about this later, okay?"

"That would be acceptable." They lapsed into silence as Chell rose and headed toward the bathroom. "What are you doing?" Glados asked her retreating back.

"I'm getting a shower before we go. Don't miss me too much." Glados scoffed as he gathered the dishes and carried them into the kitchen, all the while muttering something about a master computer being above cleaning dirty bowls. Chell merely smiled as she tossed her clothing aside and shut the shower's door. Soon hot water was pouring over her, and for a few minutes, she tried to forget about the numerous questions and scenarios clouding her mind. She really didn't want to stay here, but she didn't know anything about the outside world anymore, and if she left, what would become of Glados? Of herself?

"You're doing a wonderful job, Miss Cohen," a voice spoke in her ear, nearly making her jump. "Don't let me down, because if you do, you'll be ruining things for many more people than just yourself." She nervously shuddered as she glanced around the fogged up shower, knowing that her interactions with Glados were always being observed. So much for a relaxing shower.


	12. Chapter 12: Starting Repairs

Chapter 12: Starting Repairs

He watched her, and from this angle and perspective, it was totally different. She held the portal gun like a professional, and instead of a bird's eye view, he could actually see the way that her mouth curved into a small smile when she figured something out. He also noticed that a few strands of her black hair had slipped free from her ponytail to dangle about her cheeks, and he noticed how she occasionally looked to him for confirmation, which was totally different than before. Where once she'd verbally called his attention to her, she now used more subtle methods like glances and eye contact. Of course, she could have done this with the security cameras when she'd run her tests as well, but he supposed that being able to see a receptive human face instead of a lens made a difference. Given the countless subtleties that he could now read in her expressions, he was beginning to understand why.

"You're abnormally quiet," Chell commented, leading the way toward his personal control chamber. She didn't need his help navigating the facility anymore—not with her memories intact. She'd made this journey so many times before, and he'd watched her then too. Unless preoccupied with a particularly interesting or difficult set of data, his attention had always been drawn to her activities. Sometimes she'd brought a book to his chamber, or sometimes she'd merely wanted to chat. Sometimes she would even bring lunch with her, despite his orders that she not eat around his equipment. Chell had never been good at following instructions.

"I do not feel like talking," he told her.

How many books had she read to him before her departure? He no longer had immediate and accurate access to innumerable amounts of data and files, but he was fairly certain that they'd completed fifteen books.

"You don't feel like talking?" Chell incredulously asked. "That's a first. You could hardly keep your mouth shut when I started a conversation during the tests." Yes, but she'd always started them.

"It was difficult to ignore you and your ignorant demands and comments," he replied.

"Thanks."

"That was not a compliment." She glanced over her shoulder to smile at him, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. She'd given him clothing from her father's closet, and while the slacks were a little loose, the shirt was a familiar button-down not unlike what he'd once worn to lab. Chell had picked out a blue shirt, because she said that it looked nice on him—another one of her comments that made him inwardly scoff. Yes, ignoring her was difficult, especially when she insisted on making conversation out of absolutely nothing.

"Didn't the other test subjects talk to you?" Chell asked.

"No. If my own colleagues stopped talking to me when I became a computer, what makes you think that anyone else would want to talk to me?" He knew that he sounded a bit resentful, but he couldn't help it. He _was_ resentful, even after all these years, and now she was sending a sympathetic expression in his direction. He'd quickly learned that this expression meant that she was feeling something for him—connecting to his emotions and offering her understanding. It was called empathy, and he wasn't used to people directing that toward him. It was kind of nice, but he couldn't articulate why he felt that way.

"I have always found it strange that you chose me as a companion of sorts," Glados admitted, watching as Chell slowed her pace to match his. Soon her hand was reaching for his, and without thinking, he accepted the gesture, wrapping his fingers around hers. This was simply how they walked now, and he was okay with that. Of course, it would be impossible to relegate her to test subject status again after such developments. He would watch her holding the portal gun and remember that those hands had once been touching him instead of cradling another machine.

"I was lonely," Chell told him, letting the portal gun dangle dangerously close to the ground.

"Expensive technology," Glados chided.

"Sorry," but she was still smiling, even if she did set the gun on her shoulder. "Like I was saying, I was lonely, and you seemed lonely too. My dad told me that you were...having some problems, and when Torre gleefully announced that you were gone for good, it bothered me a lot. You were suddenly gone, and who was I going to argue with?"

"The urge to argue—another manifestation of your destructive personality."

"You like to argue too," she shot back.

"Yes, but I've never blown up entire rooms before either...or incinerated a companion cube."

"No, you just order people to kill the companion cube."

"And if your friends told you to jump off of a bridge, would you do it? Oh, that's right. You don't have any friends."

"Neither do you," Chell said while running a thumb over the back of his hand. The gesture was distracting, and he wondered why she insisted on doing it. Her skin gently caressed his, and he wanted to tell her to stop, but didn't. What a conundrum, and she had the nerve to call him friendless. Oh, but she was teasing him, wasn't she? He could tell, and as her thumb rubbed across his skin, he realized that she was far more cunning than she appeared.

"I don't think that I was the only one who was lonely," she all but whispered, and he couldn't even retort. Holding his tongue, he contented himself with fazing out of coherent thought. His mind simply drifted, but always with the knowledge that Chell's touch was pleasant.

"You tried explaining touch to me once," he stated, drawing her attention back toward him.

"You asked me to because you'd forgotten, right?" Chell probed.

"No, I hadn't forgotten yet," Glados swallowed. "But I couldn't quite remember either." Could she tell how agitated he was becoming? Was that why she was suddenly walking closer to him, so close that their shoulders brushed one another? There was something reassuring and comforting in the close proximity that he was trying to analyze.

"I can't remember," she confessed. "What did you ask me to describe?"

"Walking in a park," Glados returned. "You were the only one who could describe touch so well. You got better the more that you read to me." He looked up to find a large, sealed door that always made a soft sliding sound when opening, which was yet another thing that he associated with Chell. They'd reached their destination much slower than anticipated, but he couldn't walk quickly given his still recovering back, and Chell had allowed him to take numerous breaks. She'd even insisted on it, and somehow she'd had more foresight than him in bringing along a water bottle. He'd suggested that she do the walking and use portals to get him here, but she'd refused by telling him that he'd been in bed long enough, and that his legs would turn to jello if he never used them, which was a far worse lie than anything that he'd ever said. At least his lies were convincing.

"I will need to concentrate," he told her. "Just write down whatever I tell you to."

"Yes, sir," Chell mockingly responded, entering the room at his side and sitting on the floor. That left him to examine the damage to his connection port, and even before he lifted a single wire, he knew that this wasn't good. Fixing this was going to take a lot of work.

PxxxXXXXxpXXXXXXxxxxxxXX

"Glados," Chell said, boldly interrupting the man as he worked. She'd been sitting on the floor, jotting down notes for almost three straight hours now, and she was starting to lose her patience. "Let's go back to the apartment for a bit. I could use a break."

"With your shoddy work ethic, I'm amazed that you made it through any of the tests." Chell had the urge to remind him that she'd been fighting for her life during the majority of the tests, but Glados probably would contend that point, and she really didn't feel like arguing. She leaned against the wall and watched him bending over the pod in which his body had once been stored, his hands working furiously as he ran diagnostics with some sort of handheld machine. He kept frowning and rolling his head to work out kinks as he figured out exactly what needed to be done, for apparently the damage wasn't limited to a few wires. There had also been electrical shorts that needed repaired, and she could tell that he was mentally making a 'to do' list.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

"I'm ignoring hunger in the name of progress. Sacrifices must be made for science."

"Well, we could at least go get some of these supplies. That would give us a chance to stretch our legs a bit." She tossed her pad and pencil onto the floor in contempt as Glados completely ignored her. It was amazing how utterly human he looked when he rolled up his sleeves before popping open a compartment on the pod's side and kneeling to look inside of it. He was obviously now accustomed to using his body, for his initial awkwardness was gone, and when he paused to clean his glasses, turning his sharp features on her to say something...

"You are staring again," Glados informed her.

"Yep," she agreed, eyes trailing over the back of his blue shirt. He really was a rather attractive man on a purely physical basis. It was his personality that had always gotten in the way of people liking him, for he surely hadn't made liking him easy. Black hair, light skin, cutting eyes, a blue shirt with a red stain that suited him perfectly.

Wait. A red stain?

"Glados," Chell gasped, scurrying over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're bleeding again. I knew that this would happen if you kept bending over like this. You're still healing, you idiot. Just because those nanobots fixed the inputs back here doesn't mean that the skin around them is brand new." She kept a hand on his shoulder as he straightened to sit on his knees, and he openly scowled at the floor, the cross look ruining his handsome face.

"This body has so many limitations," he complained. "And I'm tired. _Again_." As if he couldn't quite believe it.

"You gained thumbs and lost the ability to operate nonstop, so what?" Chell admonished. "Come on. We're going to take a break, and you're going to let me look at your back. I'm making a portal back to the apartment." With a quick shot at the opposing wall, a portal that looked right into her bedroom opened, and Glados glared at her.

"I thought that you hadn't made a portal," he sniped as she helped him stand.

"I said that we weren't using a portal to get here," she subtly smiled. "I didn't say that I wouldn't make one just in case we needed it." He was still glaring at her. "I wanted company rather than walking here by myself," she clarified, letting him lean against her after he winced with his first few steps. He'd hurt his back by bending too much, but as always, ordering Glados around did not go over well. He was fiercely insistent on making his own decisions as much as possible. He was used to having few limitations and certainly not fatigue.

"No more work today," she stated.

"There is science..."

"...to be done. I know, but you're only going to hurt yourself more." He reluctantly allowed her to deposit him on the bed, and she immediately began taking off his shirt, her fingers working silently at each button as he mutely closed his eyes, no doubt in considerable pain. Chell still found it odd to see her former enemy sitting on her old bed, stark and serious features clashing with the bright blue of the walls and the colorful dresses hanging on the back of the door. There was even a flower-shaped clock sitting on the nightstand, but she'd never really liked that clock. The alarm was damn annoying, but it had been a gift from her sister, so she'd kept it.

_I wonder if Cecilia's still alive. _

"There," she said, sliding the shirt off of Glados's shoulders. His skin was so smooth and soft, but she didn't think much of it as he laid on his stomach to allow her access to his wounded back. Sure enough, cracked flesh that was still painfully red had broken, sending rivulets of blood down his spine. She didn't like blood, but her hands worked automatically, first finding a wet cloth to wipe the grime away, and then applying disinfectant. For good measure, she rubbed Glados's shoulder for a few short moments, because it always made him relax. She wondered if he had any idea that their current situation denoted intimacy. A girl didn't undress a man and then rub his back if there wasn't affection there, but no, he probably didn't realize that, and she wasn't about to mention something that didn't apply to them. Intimacy of that nature had never been part of their strange relationship, and even thinking that it could be was like...like...

"Your attention is appreciated," Glados murmured, clearly tired. "Perhaps you are not as talentless as I once claimed." Taking his indirect thank you for what it was, Chell gave his shoulders one more gentle squeeze before excusing herself from the room. He would sleep, and she would find some food for them before taking a nap herself. It wasn't that she was tired, but when she slept beside him, things didn't seem so complicated. She didn't need to remember how soon she would lose the comfort of this simple existence to explore the world above, which would likely be completely foreign to her. Glados had mentioned the Combine to her, and there were other dangers as well, but she wanted to walk in a park again, even if a mere description was enough for Glados.

_It will never be enough for me. _

Chell hated to admit it, but she was scared to leave the facility. She began rooting through the supplies that she'd gathered in her family's old kitchen, knowing that she really wasn't the same Chell as in her memories. That Chell hadn't thought as much before acting, and she'd never known intense physical pain or been reduced to hiding in a building's innards while fighting for her life. That Chell had been brave because she'd never really suffered, and there had been others to watch her back, but not anymore. The facility was the most familiar thing in the world to her now, and it operated in its own reality with its own rules that had little to do with the outside world. She knew the rules in this place, and wasn't it relaxing to cook a meal for two people who would banter and goad and comfort one another in the most unexpected ways?

_That might be enough for me. _

Chell stared blankly at a sealed pack of instant noodles before she noticed that it was the spicy variety and smiled. Glados wanted to complain about dull pasta? Well, she'd give him something with a little more kick to eat.

pppXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxX

"In the future, I think that I will threaten insubordinate test subjects with those noodles," Glados sourly shared. Chell laughed, sitting on the other side of the bed and giggling uncontrollably as Glados stared at her. "You are evil," he concluded. "You enjoy other people's suffering. At least I was impartial to such things when you were injured."

"You're not injured from those noodles."

"I do not feel well," Glados asserted, but his attempts at force were limited given his face-down position. "I believe that people commonly say that they feel like shit...I feel like shit, Chell." His comment only made her laugh again before laying down.

"You're funny, Glados," she grinned.

"It wasn't intentional," he distantly replied, turning his head to look at her. She was flopped on her back, her black hair falling loosely across the pillow, and her face lit up by happiness. Her eyes actually seemed brighter with the emotion, and Glados kept staring, marveling at how his exposure to her mood seemed to be affecting him so strongly. It was almost like her happiness emitted some type of energy that was in turn being absorbed by his body, and he didn't understand it in the slightest. He could even feel a small smile forming on his face in response to her grin, and despite his reservations, it felt nice.

"You look good with a smile," Chell told him, still beaming at him. She looked much nicer this way as well. A smile was certainly more pleasing than seeing her writhing in pain after being shot by lasers, but that hadn't occurred to him before. The entire situation reminded him of exactly why he'd tried blotting out her existence to begin with, and he shifted in discomfort.

"Does it make you that uncomfortable?" she persisted in asking, scooting closer so that he could not escape from her.

"I never smiled very often," he confessed, remembering his life as Stark. Those memories were much more accessible in this body compared to the data to which he'd grown accustomed. "I was a researcher, and what someone like you would probably call a bit antisocial."

"But you did smile," Chell insisted. "I saw you laugh once, and you always looked happy when you made a breakthrough. I never told you, but..." She scooted into a sitting position and stared at the wall opposite the bed, where a framed photo of her family hung. Glados would guess that she'd been no older than fifteen when the photo had been taken. "Do you remember how I used to stop by the lab sometimes to bring my dad lunch?"

"Yes." He could remember how annoyed he'd been whenever she'd noisily interrupted his work...or he'd been annoyed _most_ of the time anyway.

"I usually said hello to my father, and I'd chat with him a bit until you two finished whatever you were working on. Then I'd take a break with my father, and you...well, I don't actually know if you even took a break, but anyway, sometimes I didn't say anything when I came in. I'd sit in the corner and watch whenever you guys were on the verge of something great. I could tell, you know. You two were much more intense when something big was about to be accomplished, and I liked to watch. The moment the breakthrough was made, your entire face would change. You looked more relaxed, and so...satisfied and pleased. Those were the only moments that you ever looked content, and I liked seeing those moments, even if I didn't really like you per say."

"And you would also smile," Glados remembered. "I always assumed that it had something to do with your father's victory dances." He stared at the side of her solemn face, and noted a thin scar near her ear—probably another result of the tests, but not his tests. No, that one had something to do with what the other scientists had done to her first, before the neurotoxin.

"Smiling is contagious it seems," he decided, causing her to look at him. "You were smiling because I was happy, and when you smile, sometimes I also want to smile. I have never before studied this phenomenon. Perhaps I will look into it once I'm reconnected."

_"Congratulations, Dr. Stark," Chell beamed. _

_ "Thank you," he simply replied, still elated by his accomplishment, and he found himself staring at his nemesis in a rare, peaceful moment between them. She looked genuinely pleased, and her eyes were soft and encouraging for once. For a second, she seemed as proud of his work as he himself was, and unlike others who might also appreciate his work, she wouldn't question or try to verify it. She was merely happy to praise him, and her unspoken, calling eyes told him as much when he looked into them. _

_ "So, will you be coming over for dinner tonight?" she asked. "My father will want to celebrate with you, and I'm sure that he'll ask me to cook." He almost always found an excuse not to socialize, and especially not to be trapped in an apartment with this woman, even if he did like her father, but perhaps this once, he'd agree without much objection. _

_ "That would be acceptable," he spoke, and she again smiled, as if she were looking forward to it. It was so rare that someone looked this happy at being close to him._

_ "Chell," her father merrily called. Chell blinked once, and then she was hurrying away from him, the spell broken. By the time he arrived at her apartment that evening, they would be back to their unspoken battle..._

"Do you spend time thinking about Stark's memories a lot?" Chell asked, glancing down at him.

"I don't need to think about them very often," Glados explained. "But I'm always aware of them. They're like data streaming through my mind, except that this data is never sealed, and it keeps looping back in a constant flow."

"Could you permanently delete them?" she curiously asked, sounding reluctant to pose the question.

"I suppose that I could," Glados admitted, and he'd come close to doing so a few times, but he'd never actually gone through with the thought.

"Your memories are like mine, aren't they?" Chell continued, and he wondered what she meant by that. Any concrete comparison between the two of them tended to leave him deeply thoughtful, but also wary. The wariness was fading, but he was still quite aware of it. "We both have a lifetime of memories that belong to us," Chell was explaining. "We know that their ours, but at the same time, it's like they're someone else's memories too. All of these memories seem to have happened so long ago—a whole lifetime ago..." Glados silently agreed with her, and he didn't need to say as much as she stood from the bed and began walking toward the bedroom door.

"I'm going to get some more medical supplies from storage," she told him. "I'll be right back." She always said that, but what if she didn't come back? Glados found the idea disturbing as he considered the possibility of her being injured or killed by one of the malfunctioning turrets that now posed a serious risk to their work.

"Watch out for the turrets," he cautioned her, and she glanced over her shoulder with another smile.

"I'll be careful," she told him. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Then she left him alone once again, and Glados stared after her retreating figure, pondering the significance of smiles in human development.

PppXXXXXxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXx

A/N: And there will be fun with turrets.


	13. Chapter 13: Promising Indeed

Chapter 13: Promising Partnership

He watched their progress with the utmost interest as he stood in the hallway, straightening his cuffs. He'd known that this situation was promising, but he hadn't expected results _this_ promising. Perhaps he was witnessing the sharpening of a tool that would forever change the course of history. Black Mesa had certainly created problems for humanity, but it was nothing compared to what Aperture Science would accomplish if the company reclaimed this facility. Of course, he couldn't be certain of that, for his knowledge only extended so far, and sometimes the future was guesswork at best. Freedman had been an educated extrapolation that had worked in humanity's favor, and then, just as now, the mysterious watcher didn't know whether disaster would inevitably strike or not. However, given Aperture Science's ambitions paired with the technology hidden in this facility...well, humans were very corrupt beings, and the drive to power held the potential for absolute destruction and tyranny.

Perhaps he was playing too much with the past, but his superiors didn't need to know about this little foray into the facility. They thought that they could handle whatever Aperture Science might do in the future, or in the watcher's case, what amounted to his present, for if the Combine had been toppled, what could a company like Aperture do? His superiors were fools to be so optimistic, and there _had_ to be a reason that Aperture Science didn't have certain dangerous technologies in the future. The seeds for such technology were here, in this very building, yet they'd never been fully exploited. After Aperture's revival, someone had clearly stopped the company from mining this old facility, and it hadn't been the watcher, but he had a feeling that he knew who the responsible party was.

He could hear Chell and Glados talking, and he smiled to himself. He was witnessing the formation of something truly magnificent here.

There were signs in the future that he'd been involved here, hinting at what he must do. After all, no one else from his own time even thought that the Glados program still existed, and there had been no reported survivors found in the facility when Aperture had reopened it. For all intents and purposes, Glados had been gone by that time, and Chell had apparently died in a test, but that was a lie. He'd seen her in his present, and he'd found that a 'Timothy Stark' was employed by Aperture at the reopened facility. How the two went from this point in time to there was a mystery, and his associates full-heartedly praised their good fortune in the belief that Glados had been gone by the time Aperture reopened. Hence, the scientists hadn't been able to access and understand many of the encrypted files that were to be had from years of unethical research—no Glados to decipher and guide them. And so, his superiors considered this matter as something to let run its course, but they were wrong in so many ways.

Why hadn't Aperture Science found the facility's hidden technologies yet? Why hadn't they been able to access the data that Glados had once stored? People assumed that it was because the facility had been damaged in a massive explosion, during which Glados had apparently been destroyed along with the last known test subject, Chell Cohen. The fact that parts of the facility had been overgrown with plants when it was finally entered seemed to support that notion, but the watcher knew better. Good fortune had nothing to do with Aperture's thwarted efforts to regain power and technological monopolies, and there were far more dangerous things hidden within this facility than a portal gun.

He watched Chell and Glados walking down the hallway, away from his unseen presence, and allowed himself a small, tentative smile. No one but him knew of the strange dynamics between these two individuals, and unlike his associates, he knew that Glados was not a machine that needed to be destroyed for the good of humanity. They were misguided in thinking that Aperture would have regained control of the computer if he existed in their present, and equally wrong in their belief that the machine would have caused massive destruction through company hands by connecting to worldwide networks.

"That's enough for now," he quietly commented to himself. Chell and Glados were leaving his line of sight, but all was progressing nicely.

PORTALxxxxxxPORTALxxxxxxXp

"Can you help me move anything, or does your back still hurt?" Chell asked. Glados was at her side, accompanying her toward a maintenance room where their required equipment was located. There was already a portal in Glados's control room, so moving the supplies wouldn't be terribly difficult, but it would take numerous trips if her companion couldn't help. As was, he was walking along with a solemn expression, and not looking very helpful. Maybe he was still upset that she was carrying the portal gun in her backpack—something that he had vehemently protested. Traveling on her back had yet to damage the precious piece of technology though. He really was protective of the damn thing, even if it could withstand tons of abuse, including a furnace meant to incinerate humans. Sometimes he made no sense whatsoever.

"My back is still sore," Glados told her. "But I can carry small loads. Injuries can't fully disable me."

"Ok, but take it easy. You tend to push yourself too hard." He looked at her like she was lacking intelligence yet again, and Chell masked her amusement with a narrowing of her eyes. "What?" she demanded.

"You don't need to constantly worry about my physical condition," Glados admonished her, breaking eye contact. "You do realize that I was responsible for managing the daily security and welfare of several hundred employees. I am fully capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah, right," Chell scoffed, taking the lead as they approached a large door with a yellow line across its center. She could feel his eyes on her back with an intuition that she couldn't explain, and wondered whether Glados realized just how uncomfortable he sometimes sounded when refuting her. "Maintenance," she read aloud. "Authorized personnel only." She watched Glados near the door's control panel, and mischievously smiled. "Authorized personnel...or people with special friends, that is." She'd certainly been in these rooms before, despite her lack of clearance. Glados had seen to that, but only after making her promise to not disrupt the room's carefully ordered supplies.

"Do you still have the list?" he asked, ignoring her previous comment.

"Of course," she dryly remarked. "I haven't lost it between the apartment and here. And no, I don't want to hear a smart comment in reply. I know what you think about my sense of responsibility."

"I doubt it," he seriously replied, but before she could ask him to elaborate, he was walking ahead of her, stepping through the doors and into a small room where a desk sat to their right. This had previously been a security checkpoint given the sensitive and expensive supplies stored within this area, but the desk now sat empty but for a blue, coffee mug. The sight made Chell wonder if Glados could muster enough sympathy to regret how many innocent people had died when he'd released the neurotoxin. The man who'd been using that mug had probably been an average guy with a family and friends, a guy who would never know what fate he'd suffered or why. She stared at the mug's rim, and imagined someone with annoyed eyes lifting it to his lips. A memory perhaps? Or was her mind conjuring it from her imagination? Timothy had frequently used a blue mug with the formula for caffeine on it, but that wasn't this mug. Ah, but sometimes sorting through memories was still like looking through a fogged window.

Chell's attention shifted to Glados, and the dark hair that she found so soft. Watching him work to open the next door, she found it difficult to understand how someone who could be so human could also be so cold.

_He doesn't view people in a personal light anymore. _

But maybe that would change if he was in his physical body long enough. As he experienced the human world again—and as a part of it instead of being a disconnected observer—maybe he would understand more of the humanity that he'd left behind. She was beginning to suspect that he understood more than he let on anyway, for the recovery of her memories had certainly made him admit a few things that he'd previously denied. She wondered how much of a difference her existence was making in his perception, for she was sure that it had made a huge difference when she'd lived here with her father, and she suspected that...hmmm. Her attention moved to his glasses, and the sharp eyes behind them. Things were easier without her, huh? She supposed that they were, and the thought of what Stark had gone through suddenly saddened her, making her reach for his hand yet again as they continued walking.

"Glados," she began as the door closed behind them. "How much time...? Wow." She stared at the storage room with widened eyes. "I'd forgotten how huge this place is." And it _was_ huge. The massive room resembled a warehouse, and held everything imaginable that the facility might need for repairs, from gigantic cylinders to small boxes of wires, and the shelves were so high that electronic platforms were connected to the frames as lifts. As she remembered, the lifts were easily operated, and they could run along the shelves both horizontally and vertically once one typed in the necessary information. Navigation required some knowledge of the room's layout and contents, but she'd never worried about that before since Glados had been there to aid her. Maybe robots had once helped the regular maintenance team, for she could see inactive droids laying about the aisles. They'd once rolled about, scanning the room, but had never bothering her.

"You know where everything is, right?" she asked.

"Mostly," Glados replied. "I no longer have the exact, mathematical coordinates on hand, but I know the general layout."

"Ok then," Chell nodded, retrieving a folded piece of paper from her pocket. "I don't understand most of this list, but here you go." Glados took the paper and scanned its contents, muttering something about her poor handwriting in the process, and then began heading toward one of the lifts. They were now one step closer to completing their goal, and while he seemed utterly focused on the task at hand, Chell felt a tight emotion building within her chest, and the word resentment filtered through her mind.

"Are you going to stand there looking confused, or accompany me?" Glados suddenly asked, pausing in his long, graceful strides to hold out a hand toward her. She reluctantly smiled and reached for him in reply, her fingers interlocking with his as they boarded the platform together. With a soft whirling of gears, the platform began to rise, and soon they were flying down an aisle, the air that rushed by pulling at their hair in a manner that made Chell grin as boxes and metal objects flew by her vision. She looked at Glados, who appeared indifferent to the sensation, but she didn't care as she rested one hand on the platform's railing. She'd always loved fooling around on these things, and he'd always liked mocking her for it.

"Hold these," Glados instructed her as the lift slowed to a stop. How high up were they now? Chell leaned over the railing, and estimated that they were almost three floors above the ground. Well, maybe only two, which was nothing since the shelves were at least eight stories tall. Then Glados was passing several small boxes into her possession, and she carefully took each one, being sure to hold them in a manner of which he approved.

"Now we need to go to..." But Glados stopped speaking mid-phrase as a red dot appeared on the front of his shirt. He frowned at the offending spot, and Chell scrunched her face in concern.

"What's that?" she asked, and both traced the dot back to its source: a small machine hovering before the platform. Its single, red eye emitted a thin beam that was focused on Glados's chest, but then the dot began moving upward to his face, eventually focusing on his right eye. "Glados," Chell urgently whispered. "What is that thing doing?"

"It's a security droid," he explained, patiently standing still as the machine clicked.

"I've never seen one before," she nervously frowned, nearly jumping when the small machine chirped and began speaking.

"Dr. Timothy Stark," it announced in a monotone voice. "Identity confirmed. Access authorized." Chell swallowed as the machine now turned to her, the red dot beginning at her shoes and then slowly climbing upward as the lens before her continually spun to adjust its focus.

"They were only activated late at night, when security went home, and that was before I joined the mainframe," Glados explained, sounding perfectly collected. "Once I was digitalized, there was no longer a need for them, but it appears that some were reactivated in my current disconnection. Shutting the facility down and then rebooting it likely activated a number of previously dormant machines."

"Should I be worried?" Chell questioned as the red dot neared her throat.

"Not at all," Glados scoffed, looking over the top of his glasses at her. "Look at this security model. It's ancient technology. Practically obsolete."

"But what if it thinks I'm an intruder?"

"Please," Glados sighed, sounding impatient and condescending. "I am certain that I, as a superior machine, can handle it." Chell wanted to contend that point as the red dot found her right pupil, the bright light momentarily blinding her as the hovering bot buzzed, but she said nothing.

"Chell Cohen," it chirped. "Identity confirmed. Access denied."

"She's with me," Glados stated. "Grant her security clearance."

"Security will now be notified of an intruder." Chell tensed, and Glados pushed his glasses higher onto his nose.

"Override code 76043321," he stated, and the machine paused as if thinking.

"Override denied. According to resolution 502, clearance must be obtained prior to entry by means of a security guard, who will issue a temporary pass."

"Glados..." Chell nervously began, her throat growing dry. Just as a safety precaution, she was going to get out the portal gun.

"That is ridiculous!" Glados angrily huffed. "Resolution 502 doesn't apply to this situation. I have override authority at all security levels!" But the machine obviously wasn't listening as it began to hover further away.

"Glados, considering how nutsy the facility is without you controlling it, maybe the machines aren't going to listen," Chell suggested. "Remember the room with the turrets?" She'd shown him a former cafeteria, where a group of turrets had shot themselves apart after accidently identifying each other as enemies.

"But," Glados began protesting.

"_And_ the security cameras, Glados," Chell stressed. "That one camera kept spinning until it snapped itself off of the wall. Remember? Swallow your pride and admit that you're not the master of the facility anymore."

"But that means..." And suddenly the room was filled with the sound of a blaring alarm, red lights flashing along the shelves as Chell and Glados stared at one another.

"Oh shit!" Chell gulped, paling as Glados began typing coordinates into the platform's controls. "Glados," she said, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing down toward the floor. They were several shelves above the ground, but that didn't make her feel better as she noticed the two robots beneath them. No sooner had she poked her head over the edge of the railing to stare at their beady, red eyes, then lasers began firing on the platform. Sparks flew as short laser bursts struck metal, making the aisles resound with sharp, metallic pings as an unarmed security bot hovered nearby, ever present above their heads. Thank god the little machine didn't have lasers like the robots below did.

"The intruder shall now be eliminated," the hovering bot chirped.

"Glados!" Chell yelled.

"We're going," he assured her, and then the platform was again flying down the aisle, the bot struggling to keep up, and the two robots below fading from view. "I can override the controls on this," Glados was explaining, seemingly oblivious to the threat posed to Chell's life. She envied his confidence as they were jerked sideways to enter another aisle, but her only sense of security came from the portal gun that she now held in her hands.

"We only need to collect five more items," he told her. "Then we'll use the portal gun to leave. The robots are only programmed to attack until the target is no longer in the restricted area."

"That makes me feel _so_ much better," Chell glared while constantly looking over the back of the platform in paranoia. The machines would catch up sooner or later, and that damned security droid kept tracing her body with its red beam.

"Here," Glados said, stopping the platform and setting several boxes onto the lift.

"I really think we should leave," Chell complained, catching sight of the two robots wheeling toward the now stationary lift. Their guns were rising, but Glados was still double-checking his supply list. "Glados!" she all but screamed at him.

"Really, Chell," he admonished. "I helped design those machines down there, and I assure you that their firing accuracy is relatively low. Lay down on the lift, and they won't be able to hit you." Chell began doing as told, noting with satisfaction that Glados appeared to know what he was talking about. The lasers weren't capable of going through the platform's base, after all, and the machines couldn't fly to gain a better view of her. Maybe this would work smoothly, so long as...

_Click_.

The sharp sound made even Glados pause, and then the painful screeching of metal filled the air as the platform gave a shudder.

"What was that?" Chell asked, her hands sweating against the portal gun's handle.

"I'm not entirely sure," Glados admitted, and he couldn't damn well look over the edge and find out since he might get hit by a stray shot. Chell wasn't about to risk looking either as lasers continued to pelt the bottom of the platform, the sound ringing in her ears as she laid against the metal surface. Her heart began pounding as loud as the barrage beneath her when the platform gave another shudder, and then the lift began to tilt downward, creating an uneven surface on which to stand. Glados steadied himself by grabbing the railing and keeping to the side of the platform closest to the shelves, and Chell braced one leg against the railing from where she lay.

"I've made a miscalculation," Glados stated with a frown, his confidence fading into a more muted voice. "Their aim is poor, and it seems that, because they were taking random shots at you, they unintentionally hit one of the platform's weaker supports."

"What?" Chell shrieked as the platform dipped further.

_Click_.

Now she was forced to stand or risk rolling off of the lift's side to fall two stories, and so she scrambled toward Glados as the supply boxes slid ever closer to the edge, a thin, raised rim the only thing keeping them from falling. Chell gripped the railing with one hand as the other held the portal gun, and all the while, lasers continued to pelt away at their unsteady haven.

"This is really bad," she groaned. "Let's jump through a portal."

The platform screeched yet again, and Glados uneasily repositioned his feet.

"I think that would be a wise idea at this point," he agreed. "One of the few times that you're absolutely correct."

"Alright," Chell stated. "Help me push these boxes aside. We can climb onto the shelf. I can't make a portal on this platform." Glados began following her instructions without comment, which was a miracle that she might have appreciated more if her life wasn't on the line. Even Glados was in danger now that he might fall, and she hoped that he fully understood what that could mean as they began toppling boxes from the shelf. Soon Glados was climbing over the railing to safety, for the shelves were easily wide and thick enough to hold a person given that they were designed to hold objects as large as cars. Now Chell just had to toss him the rest of their stuff, and then...

_Click_.

"SHIT!" Chell screamed as the platform dropped to a most precarious angle, the far side having completely lost its support. She nearly dropped the portal gun when the floor gave way, her only saving grace being that she'd had one hand on the railing. Now her feet kicked against the nearly vertical floor, hopelessly grappling for footing as she all but dangled in the air. The robots below furiously wheeled about to avoid an avalanche of falling boxes and metal bars, their attention momentarily distracted.

"Take it!" Chell yelled as she passed Glados the portal gun. She couldn't pull herself up onto the shelf with one hand, and the rest of the platform could collapse at any moment. Palms sweating against the railing, she wrapped trembling fingers around the metal, and began hoisting herself upward, feeling the same panicky sensation that had once come with being trapped in one of Glados's tests, but this time she wasn't alone. The machines buzzed below as they maneuvered about an obstacle course of debris, but their assault wouldn't remain suspended for long, and Chell could almost feel time slipping away from her as hands reached for her. Glados was trying to help, his hands wrapping around her arms and helping to hoist her upward as her legs floundered about, trying to kick upward off of the lift to no avail.

"I'm almost there!" she excitedly shouted as her upper body made it over the railing. Glados was dragging her over the edge of the shelf, his face twisted in strain as Chell heard the platform give a final screech before completely breaking free from the shelf. She felt the weight pulling against her legs as one knee cleared the railing, but the other erupted in pain as the edge of the railing cracked against bone. She screamed in agony, even as Glados pulled her entirely onto the shelf by himself. He was breathing heavily, gasping for air, as was she, and somewhere unseen, the robots resumed their attack.

"Thank god they can't hit us," Chell roughly sighed, dazed and lightheaded from pain. She was laying face-down, aware of lasers hitting the edges of the shelf, but not particularly caring as Glados scooted as far away from the beams of energy as possible.

"We can't make a portal here," he stated. "The shelf won't work."

"I know," Chell answered with her eyes tightly squeezed shut. "But we can put one on the floor and jump." She rolled over and glanced down at her knee, wondering how swollen and red it was beneath her jeans.

"Jump?" Glados cautiously asked. "We are nearly two stories above the floor."

"I had to jump from higher in the tests," Chell argued.

"I am aware of that," Glados frowned. "But you had specially designed leg bracers. And yes, I realize that jumping from this height is not likely to kill us, but the risk of serious injury is there. Perhaps..."

"It's a bit different when you're in a human body, isn't it?" Chell interrupted, unforgivingly staring at him. "Jumping isn't just a matter of physics when you could die—when you're not just a computer crunching data on the jump and calculating the angle. It's damn scary, Glados." He immediately looked down at the shelf's surface, and began fidgeting with cleaning his glasses. Chell knew that he'd never actually used the portal gun. He'd only ever watched other people do it, but now he was the one under stress and necessity. It was quite fitting, and she was actually a bit pleased to see him nervously considering his options.

"You are going to rub this in my face later," he finally grumbled while gaining a firmer grip on the gun.

"Hell yes," Chell nodded. "But let's get to safety first."

"It doesn't make sense," Glados continued, as if talking to himself. "Logically, I know that this will work, and the angle of the jump will not be difficult, but..."

"Glados," Chell growled. "I'm in a lot of pain, and I'm going to strangle you, if you don't make a portal right this instant." She closed her eyes to fight back the pain, and then felt Glados gently placing a hand near her knee. She winced as he made contact with her thigh, but then, as she slowly opened her eyes, she noted how serious but collected Glados had become since her angry threat.

"You are injured," he noted. "Jumping will be difficult for you."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Just help me toward the ledge." And he did. He helped move her to the side of the shelf that overlooked the empty aisle—the one from which the robots weren't firing—and there she sat, her legs dangling over the side as he aimed the gun and fired. A portal opened directly beneath them, and Chell glanced at him reassuringly as she let herself drop off of the shelf, falling through the center of the portal and into the control room beyond. She landed with a painful thud as she flew out of the portal and into one of the room's walls, but it wasn't as bad as her knee, and she was content to simply collapse on the floor, and stare back through the portal.

"Come on!" she shouted, looking upward at Glados, who was still peering over the edge of the shelf at her. It was strange to be looking sideways into a wall, and to find oneself looking upward at the storage room's ceiling at the same time, but the complicated view didn't confuse Chell as it once had. She merely crawled sideways to avoid being hit by Glados as he too jumped, and soon he was flying through the portal to hit the wall in almost the exact same spot that she had. He groaned and slumped against the wall, quickly closing the portal so that the robots would not find and chase them through the opening.

"It's not as great as it looks, is it?" Chell tersely asked.

"It wouldn't be painful at all, if we'd been wearing the proper leg braces," Glados argued. Then they sat in silence, resting as the adrenaline of the moment passed, leaving two very sore people in its wake. "I have drawn several conclusions from this experience," Glados finally stated.

"Really?" Chell sarcastically asked. "What?"

"I need to modify the security system's override codes," he began. "The portal gun needs to have more compatibility with different surfaces, and those security droids need to be incinerated."

"Good to know," Chell managed to smile. "I'm glad that this has been educational for you."

….

"Chell."

"Yes?"

"I will tend to your injury now. It only seems appropriate given the care that you've shown me, but I am warning you that I am not a proper medic. Consider this a disclaimer so that you cannot blame me for any complications. And..." His voice trailed off.

"Just say it. I'm not very patient right now."

"Well...we lost all of the supplies."

"Your problem, buddy, not mine."


	14. Chapter 14: Gradual Breakdown

Chapter 14: Gradual Breakdown

He stared at the door, listening for the sounds of movement that he assumed would be audible, but there was nothing. Chell had been in the bathroom, supposedly bathing, for over an hour now, but it was really quiet in there, and she was injured. Sure, she hadn't broken any bones, but her knee was swollen, and he was anxious to return to the control room and resume working. His back was healing nicely, and soon he'd be able to reconnect to the mainframe given his steady repair work, but he wasn't leaving the apartment without Chell. Perhaps it was the fact that he was accustomed to her presence, or the fact that she aided his work. Maybe it even had something to do with his belief that she must be up to something if he couldn't see her, but whichever theory had more merit, he wasn't leaving the apartment alone, not without knowing what she was doing in there.

Seriously, this was utterly ridiculous. The point of bathing was to clean oneself, and when Chell had forced him to take a shower, it had only taken seven minutes. Bathing did not take this long, and while it might be expected since she wasn't as efficient as him, Glados found himself growing increasingly agitated. What if she couldn't get out of the bathtub because of her injury? He had been sleeping earlier, and might not have heard her calling for help. _And,_ in the most unimaginable of fates, what if she'd drowned, stranding him in this body until he grew old and died? Frowning at the door before him, he wondered if he should check on her. After all, he knew that barging into a bathroom was considered rude, and there were many bodily functions that he would happily miss watching someone else perform, but he'd been standing here, perplexingly indecisive, for almost ten minutes now. Surely someone of his intellect could figure out a suitable way to solve this problem. That's why he'd knocked, but there'd been no answer.

"Chell!" he loudly called. "Test subject 103, you haven't drowned, have you?"

No answer.

"I am about to enter," he announced. "You will have no right to hit or otherwise abuse me for this." And then he slowly opened the door, pausing as a wave of steam fogged up his glasses and rendered the world opaque. Great. Pulling the glasses off, he found his surroundings equally indecipherable as a blur, confirming his belief that human eyes could never match up to a camera.

"Chell," he frowned, staring at her indistinct figure where it lounged in the bathtub. He grabbed a towel and cleared his glasses, replacing them to find that said woman was at least breathing. She was leaning against the back of the tub, her breasts resting directly above the water line, and headphones popped into her ears. He could hear the music now that he was in the room, and he almost moved to yank the headphones free, but stopped as Chell shifted ever so slightly, causing the water around her to ripple. Her eyes remained closed as Glados became aware of the moisture shimmering across her exposed skin, and with his attention fully arrested, he stood there, computing the details of her body. It had been a long time since he'd seen a naked woman, and despite his highly logical brain, he found himself inexplicably drawn to the sight of her.

There'd been a time when she'd lifted a dress over her head, her voice soft as she conversed with some lowly research intern. That had been the one of the first times that he'd seen so much of her, and through a lens no less, the young woman perfectly aware that he was watching. Had he stared this much when first digitalized? He frowned at the thought, thinking that maybe he had, but only at first, and why had he been so entranced? So long ago...And she'd taunted him for it! When he had been feeling at his lowest! When he hadn't been as perfected as now. When everything was new, and he'd been struggling, and, and...

Glados's displeasure deepened as he fought with himself. There was absolutely no reason to stare at her, especially when she was invoking that subtle rage inside of him again, yet here he was, staring. Cradled in warm fog, he watched her legs gently stir as she yawned, thigh brushing against thigh. Perhaps she'd fallen asleep in the bathtub, which might further explain her ignorance of his presence. That made sense. What did not make sense was that he found her physical form fascinating, even though he already knew everything about human anatomy. He'd even already touched her skin, and while it was pleasant, he'd never had the urge to stare at her skin before. This made even less sense than his earlier reaction to their situation in the storage room.

Glados leaned against the sink as he cleared his glasses once more, thinking about the attack that they'd suffered three days ago. When Chell had nearly fallen to her death, his chest had tightened, and he'd scrambled to grab her, only aware of the fact that she would die if he didn't help her. He'd identified the emotion as fear almost immediately, but not for himself, and realizing that this woman could invoke such emotion within him was something new. He didn't want to see her hurt, and rationally thinking, it made sense since he needed her help, but that hadn't occurred to him when he saw her falling. There'd been no time to think about such things. He'd responded automatically, and in a manner that he attributed to a gradual breaking down. He could almost feel the barrier between machine and man crumbling away as he stared at the delicate curve of her collarbone, memories continuing to dominate his mind in the absence of constant input and data.

This was not good.

Chell's chest rose and fell, and Glados, feeling another wave of conflict, had the urge to recoil and leave this room, but his mind was stuck somewhere between the memory of her telling him that she didn't want him to become a machine again, and this strangely alluring sight before him.

"Glados!" He jerked out of his thoughts with a blank stare, realizing that his vision was still securely fastened on Chell's breasts. "What are you doing?" Oh, dear. She was angry.

PortalXXXportalXXXXbreak in POV XXX

The bath was still hot as Chell shifted, contentedly letting the water lull against her chest as she half-listened to the soft music crooning from within her earphones. Her mind had drifted into a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, and that was fine since the warm water was doing wonders for her sore knee. There was nothing in the world to rush her either, for she'd left Glados sleeping on her bed, his fingers twitching every once in a while, as if he were dreaming, which was rather odd since he'd claimed that he didn't dream. He'd never even moved in his sleep before yesterday, but suddenly he seemed to be dreaming again, and Chell found herself wondering what someone like him dreamed about. What did a person who wasn't completely a person dream of? Numbers? Calculations? Or maybe, when his brow furrowed, he was reliving the fear of jumping through a portal. Either way, seeing him dream had made her leave for the bathroom with a slight smile.

Chell suddenly felt a slight chill enter the air, and wondered whether it was worth opening her eyes for. Maybe she would add some hot water to the bath and remain a while longer, especially since Glados was bound to wake up soon. He would probably request that they return to work as soon as she stepped out of the room, and the only reason that he'd been less demanding lately was due to his still recovering back. After all, finishing repairs didn't mean anything if he couldn't plug himself back in yet, and maybe she'd used her knee as an excuse to do nothing for almost two days as well. To her surprise, Glados hadn't aggressively pushed her to do otherwise either. He'd leave the apartment to work for short intervals on his own, but generally refrained from doing more than asking her when she would be capable of being useful again.

Damn, but the chill wasn't disappearing, and Chell decided to fix the problem as she drifted back to full consciousness. Her eyes lazily opened, and she was immediately hit by the realization that the bathroom door was open, allowing cooler air to enter her steamy domain. Then her attention snapped to Glados, the man leaning against the sink with his dark hair disheveled, and his sharp eyes looking decidedly unfocused. She didn't know what shocked her more, the fact that he was spying on her, or that his expression was so unlike anything that she'd previously seen. It was the latter that momentarily stunned her into silence, a blush rushing to her cheeks as she considered the object of his current interest. He looked lost somewhere between agitation and intense fascination, utterly out of his depth, yet applying the same detailed analysis that he applied to everything. It was as his eyes slid over her breasts that she finally found her voice.

"Glados! What are you doing?" She jerked upward into a sitting position, her consternation tempered by extreme surprise and embarrassment. She'd been ogled before, but that had been in her detached past, and what the hell, but being ogled by Glados was the last thing that she'd expected.

"I was worried that you had drowned!" Glados defended himself, the man straightening from the sink and breaking out of his distracted staring. His fingers looked like they were itching for something with which to fiddle, and his eyes kept darting between her and the doorway.

"You look like the boy who was caught in the act," Chell accused, still cross as she covered her breasts and crossed her legs shut. "And now you're trying to play it down. Damn. I just can't catch a break around here!"

"My concerns were well-grounded," Glados sharply replied, seeming to find his footing once more as he met her annoyed gaze. "And I wouldn't be here if you hadn't taken such a long time to complete a mundane task like bathing. Do you have any idea what could happen to me if you..."

"Glados," Chell sighed, her temper dissolving. No doubt the sometimes clueless man had indeed entered here with such practical thoughts on his mind. It was laughable to think that he'd been motivated by the promise of admiring her naked body like some common, peeping Tom. "Glados, you can be so..." Maybe she should just tell him to leave.

"So what?" he scowled.

"Oh, just stop talking, and hand me a towel," she ordered. "Now." Whatever he'd been about to say, Glados snapped his mouth shut and did as bidden, walking closer to the bathtub as he extended a towel to her.

"If you were anyone else, I would accuse you of being a pervert," Chell commented, accepting the towel and expecting him to immediately leave now that he realized the social errors of his ways, but he didn't. The towel was being pulled toward her, and she watched his eyes follow the movement, his attention clearly drifting over her chest once more, and for the life of her, Chell couldn't decide whether she wanted him to stop looking or not.

"Glados," she intoned while wrapping the towel around her shoulders. "I clearly haven't drowned. You can get out now."

"I was merely checking on your physical well-being," the man scoffed, his gaze snapping away from her. "There is no reason to be rude." But he was already leaving the bathroom, and soon the door shut behind him. Chell stared after him a moment longer before finally standing to dry herself, the process inadvertently drawing her attention to the worst of her scars as her injured knee unsteadily wobbled. How had all of them even gotten there? Most were barely visible, but she could still see them. Maybe she was better off forgetting how she'd received them.

"Damn those scientists," she murmured to herself, listening as the bath water began draining away. Then she turned and looked into the mirror above the sink, one of her hands wiping away the fog that coated its surface. She met her own gaze, and thought about Glados examining the slope of her neck, the barely visible scar that crisscrossed her right collarbone, and the way that her dark hair was currently matted atop her skin. For a few seconds, he'd looked completely flustered, as if he'd known what he was doing.

"What was he thinking?" Chell asked her reflection before inwardly shaking her head. "What does a machine who's a man see when he looks at anything?" Or was it a man who was a machine? She moved away from the mirror, and with the towel wrapped around her, exited the bathroom. Her feet scuffed across carpet as she headed toward the bedroom at a slow pace, her thoughts looping back to what had just transpired with a determination that she failed to dispel. How long would Glados have stood there examining her in fine detail if she hadn't opened her eyes? What _had_ he been thinking? It wouldn't have surprised her to hear him spout something negative about her body, but instead he'd stared at her with that...expression. Eyes on her breasts, then sinking lower to what the water obscured, as if she were a woman instead of just a human.

Chell felt a light blush rising to her cheeks, and immediately felt ridiculous. It wasn't like a man had never seen her in such an exposed state before. They had, but then again, what did it matter? Old Chell, new Chell. This Chell had scars, and as the towel brushed against her arms, she wondered if Glados had noticed them as he'd looked at her in a way more reminiscent of a regular man than a robot—no, not like a regular man really, not when his gaze wasn't overtly sexual. Or had it been? No. It had struck her as focused, but reluctant, searching and interested, but tainted by displeased confusion.

"Glados?" she called when she realized that her bedroom was empty. "I don't know where you are, but I swear that I'm not going to hit you. Just don't walk into the bathroom when I'm bathing again. Okay?" There was no answer as she changed into a t-shirt and jeans, her wet hair dripping down her back as she tossed the towel over the back of a chair. Where was he? "Glados?" she called again as she walked into the living room. She winced as she reached and collapsed onto the couch, knowing that she shouldn't be walking around so much. Her injury's swelling had gone down, but the bruising soreness could be unbearable at times.

_Maybe he's gone back to work._

"I can't just sit here with nothing to do for hours," she muttered to herself. _One, two three, up_. She was on her feet again, but regretted the action almost as soon as she stood.

"You shouldn't be walking this much," a dry voice informed her.

"There you are," Chell said while turning to find Glados standing behind the couch, a glass of water in his hands. "I thought that you'd gone to the control room."

"That's exactly where I'll be going once you accept this peace offering." He walked around the couch and thrust the glass toward her. "You will require hydration while I'm gone. I even selected your favorite glass—the one with the 'fishies'."

"Thanks," Chell responded, noting Glados's detached voice. His face was blank, and his stance casual, but those deep eyes of his kept evading her own. "You don't need to go alone," she found herself saying. "Look. I know that what just happened was a little awkward, but there's no reason to..."

"I've no time to waste on small talk," he interrupted, his voice clipped, and a slight furrow forming between his eyebrows. There was something almost angry in his expression that gave Chell pause, and instinctively, she found herself reaching for his hand, his palm soon sliding against hers as he struggled for but a moment to resist her.

"Stop that," he demanded, although he did not retract his hand. "I need to work."

"I'll come with you," Chell offered. "I'll wheel myself along on one of the trolleys, and..."

"No!" Glados again interrupted. "You can't come. I refuse to grant you authorization."

"Why?" Chell asked, confused as she stepped closer to him. She denied him the privilege of retreating by firmly holding his hand near her side. Her face was now inches from his as she challenged his obstinacy, her murky confusion dissipating when she caught a glimpse of the uncertain agitation lurking behind his glasses. He swallowed, and she followed the movement down his throat.

"I need to work alone right now," Glados emphasized. "I do not want your company, and...and would you release my hand? I'm not designed for inane displays of affection," he huffed. "I am a work of genius engineering, a brilliant entity that can best any computer or mere man, and I will not..." His face tightened, and the words seemed to lodge painfully in his throat as Chell lifted his hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but she found herself running a thumb over the place where she'd kissed him, if only to avoid looking up into his face. "I have spent the last two days analyzing myself a great deal," Glados finally stated in a low voice. "I was aware that there might be some complications in taking a human form. Once your memories were returned, I knew that nothing good could come of it. Boundaries exist for logical reasons. I made them that way. I always take every precaution to ensure that I achieve the most advantageous outcome. To do otherwise—to act like someone like you—would be like..."

Chell kissed the back of his hand again, and for a second, she was sure that he would completely recoil from her. Instead, he stood stock still, and she found his eyes fastened on the moist mark that her lips had left on his skin.

"It was for a reason," he lowly stated.

"I know," Chell nodded.

"No, you don't!" he angrily snapped, his fingers painfully tightening around Chell's hand. "I was planning to log these new experiences away in my files to supplement all that has become impossible to ignore since taking on a body. They were mere curiosities—something meant to aid in future research and the understanding of test subjects. Experiences meant to give new context to things that I'd logged into back storage for a reason! A reason, you stupid, ignorant, emotional human! Now look at my system." He sought her eyes, his eyebrows slightly raised as if trying to emphasize his point, and Chell wondered why he seemed so intent on hearing her response.

"Look at your system now? You're the same ass that you've always been," she offered, a note of defense creeping into her voice "Yeah, you're different, but not _that_ different, not when you get down to the nitty-gritty. I used to think that nothing was the same, but the more we talk, the less certain I am. And I have my memories back now, and, well, you're definitely just as stubborn, grumpy, and sarcastic as Stark ever was, and you know what, Glados? I still like you, just like I never really disliked him either." For some reason, her words seemed to agitate Glados even further, a frantic gleam entering his eyes, and then he released her hand, quickly distancing himself from her as he headed for the apartment door.

"I will be working," he bluntly stated. "Alone."

"Glados!" Chell protested, hobbling after him. "I didn't mean to upset you so much." He was acting so peculiar, and she felt an inkling of deep concern fasten around her heart as his words bounced about her mind, imparting more understanding than she wished to contemplate on her own in an empty apartment. "You're not making any sense," she complained, pausing in her efforts to lean against the wall. Immediately, Glados stopped walking, the back that was turned to Chell perceptively stiffening.

"No, test subject 103," he sternly replied. "I always make perfect sense, and it should be clear as to why I put so many precautions into place long ago, even to someone like you. I must be reconnected as soon as possible. My self-diagnosis is not so bad that I'm irreparable, but I will not risk worsening the situation. I promise that I will return in time to ensure that you do not starve to death." Then the door shut with a resounding click that filled Chell's ears like a thunderclap. She lowered herself to the floor, several tears running down her cheeks as the true impart of his current reasoning hit her. She imagined herself back in the bathtub, wrapped in steam as a frozen man watched her.

"Oh, Glados," she breathed. "All I wanted was to make you promise not to barge in again." She looked to the door, and wondered how long it took the average person to starve to death. "If it will be painful all over again, why do it?" But the apartment remained silent.

PortalXXPORTALbreak in POV sincewebsite keeps removing breaksXXXX

_Experience in a body is meant for the files. Experience: a noun, pieces of data, only a noun. I'm not supposed to like it. _

Glados connected several circuits and sat back to admire his handiwork. His back would be healed adequately enough to be reconnected within the week, or so he estimated. Then he would have Chell reboot him, connecting him to his precious network, and returning the facility to his control. Everything would be back in order, the turrets put in their place, tests prepared for future research, his recent experiences incorporated into his files, or maybe...

Glados frowned at the wires before him, determined to be pragmatic about this, but finding that the results were not in his favor. What if he couldn't simply incorporate the experiences? What if he again forgot what touch was like? That would be okay if he thought about it logically since computers had no use for such information, but the thought of not being able to conceptualize the feeling of warmth or a hand against his own...With a frustrated gritting of his teeth, Glados recalled the many precautions that he'd taken throughout his existence and the corresponding results. Sure, Chell had approached him conversationally during the tests, but he'd remained impartial despite the past. He'd even given her over to her enemies when she'd returned to the facility that fateful night.

_But you didn't let them kill her._

Glados felt a headache brewing as he sat there on the tiles of his control room, so familiar and promising, yet suddenly tainted with a touch of dread. Would he want someone to describe the feeling of grass to him again? Had he been damaged that much? Should he even call it damage? Maybe not, but it made everything more difficult, just as it had before. But it would go away, he assured himself, just as it had before, especially since Chell seemed intent on leaving the facility afterwords. She would be gone, and he would have no distractions in his scientific pursuits, but the feeling did not put him at ease. It hadn't for some time, and unless her comments misled him, she knew this as surely as he did.

A soft beeping interrupted Glados's thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder at the monitor behind him. Activity had been detected in hallway C4, and he sincerely hoped that it wasn't some stupid droid mindlessly attacking soda machines again. He stood and moved to the screen, clicking a few buttons until the appropriate security camera was accessed, and then he found himself looking at Chell. She was slowly making her way down the hallway by wheeling herself along in an office chair, and she was undoubtably heading toward his control room. Didn't she even stop to think about the crazed robots that she might encounter? There weren't many fully operating since the facility had gone offline, but an injured human wouldn't be a challenge, even for the weakest models.

"Chell," he murmured.

PortalXXbreakinPOVXX since website removes breaksXXXXX

The chair had been a great idea, but the wheels weren't turning properly, and Chell was regretting not having brought snacks or water with her. Her bare feet propelled her along with effort, and she silently cursed Glados for putting her in this situation. After the tears had subsided, she'd slept, and after sleeping, she'd waited one hour, which had turned into three and now six hours. It wasn't that she couldn't feed herself as Glados seemed to think, but there was nothing to do in the apartment when alone, and with nothing to do, her thoughts turned toward his recent departure and statements. It was amazing how so few words had imprinted themselves in a manner that still made her feel emotional. Skimming through old magazines and books was no counter to such depressing matters, and in a strange twist, her leg's pain actually seemed a blessing to redirect her focus.

"Damn chair," she grumbled as a wheel again refused to budge. She glared at the offending object, and applied more force with her hurting legs, inching the stubborn chair forward with a grimace. Perhaps she should take a break, and so, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling, her attention zeroed in on the tile directly above her before an electronic sound distracted her. Her gaze shifted to a nearby security camera as it focused on her, and she wondered if Glados or some other machine was watching her. She liked to think that it was Glados, but maybe he would have successfully reduced her to a mere test subject again by the time she reached him. She told herself not to think such a thing as a twinge of renewed strain threatened her tear ducts. He'd been playing cards with her just yesterday, and insulting her strategy, of course, but he'd also been smiling at her.

"I've lost more tears in this place than anywhere else," she announced to the security camera, just in case Glados was listening while he worked. "And it's all _your_ fault. My life, my father, my memories, you. All gone like that, and every time things get better, you have to...oh, forget it. You're probably not even listening, as if you're the only one who this is hard for." With another push, she was again rolling down the hallway, determined to reach her destination as quickly as possible, but finding the chair a constant source of frustration. She'd left the apartment over an hour ago.

_Snap._

Chell sighed as she heard the plastic wheel break, leaving her sitting in a lopsided chair. Security camera watching her, she wondered if the facility would act on its own and send a droid after her. After all, maybe it wasn't Glados keeping track of her, and the thought made her extremely nervous. True, she had the portal gun in her backpack, but she couldn't move quickly, and jumping? Forget it. Blue eyes fixed on the camera, she forced herself to stand and continue onward, being closer to the control room than the apartment. Chances were that nothing would happen anyway. Chin up, as her father had often told her.

"Ouch," Chell winced as she stubbed her toe on a floor partition. She teetering forward, and felt like a complete fool as pain shot up her legs, further destroying her balance. She dropped onto her knees, and if it weren't so sudden and unexpected, she would have screamed. As was though, the world faded to black amongst a swirl of pain, and Chell Cohen lay unmoving on the floor, aware of nothing at first, and then only the coldness of tile against her cheek. There was light creeping between her sealed eyelids, and a throbbing that muddled her thoughts, but her fingers gently moved against the floor as she tried to gain her bearings. This wasn't her bedroom.

"Chell," a voice called.

Her eyes flickered open, focusing on two black objects framed in white. Shoes. She wondered why she was looking at shoes, but then the panic set in. Shit, but those were _shoes_. What had the men in white done to her this time? Why wasn't she in her cell? They only came when they wanted to hurt her, and the thought sent her heart racing as she jerked away from the hand that suddenly touched her. She was scooting backward toward the wall, breathing heavily as she imagined the scalpels and the lights above hard tables. She almost shrieked, but then the familiarity of a masculine voice stabbed through her addled thoughts, bringing her back to herself. She exhaled in relief as her adrenaline faded, and then she quietly rolled onto her back as she looked upward at Glados. Blue shirt and tan slacks. No lab coats in sight.

"I thought that you were one of the scientists," she stated. "Bad memories. This entire place."

"Oh," Glados briefly commented, the sound hanging in the air as neither spoke. Chell blinked upward at him, and he tucked his hands into his pocket. He looked much more controlled and relaxed than he had earlier. "I told you that walking was a bad idea," he reminded her.

"I know," she replied, her voice empty.

"And I brought a cart since it would appear that you've ruined what little recovery you recently made." He was already retrieving the portal gun from her backpack, and Chell was amazed that he didn't seem concerned that she'd nearly fallen on it.

"I couldn't stay there any longer," she told him, watching as he aimed the gun at the wall.

"Boredom makes you stupid, it seems," Glados chided as he set the gun aside. "You are fortunate that I happened to notice your predicament. I was in the middle of very serious work for which you have no appreciation. If you hadn't so idiotically stumbled, I wouldn't have come at all."

"I wasn't going to let a broken wheel defeat me," Chell replied, still taking in his calm demeanor as he drew closer. Dark hair dangled in his face as he stooped and wrapped arms beneath her own, helping to lift and move her. "I'm glad that you seem better now," she shared as she awkwardly landed on her butt and scooted backward on the cart. "I was worried. I still am, I guess."

"Worried enough to further complicate your injuries?" Glados probed as he began pushing the cart.

"Not just that," Chell admitted. "I needed to not be alone." They passed through the portal and into the apartment's living room. "What was I going to do? Sit around and keep thinking about the same thing over and over again? You left me here for hours, Glados." She stiffened her lips, and dried her eyes through sheer willpower, letting the momentary sadness pass with her words. "You left me here all by myself after upsetting me."

"So you decided that the logical solution was to find me," Glados skeptically mused as the cart stopped outside of the bedroom door. "Am I not the reason that you cry?" So he had been listening. He stood before her now, hands ready to help hoist her upward, and soon Chell was leaning against his tall frame, an arm thrown over his shoulder.

"I was..." Chell sought the proper word. "I was mourning."

"Mourning?" Glados questioned as they reached the bed.

"It's what people do when they lose something important," Chell explained as she gently landed on the mattress.

"I _know_ what it means," Glados shot back, sounding offended. "But you didn't lose anything because of our argument."

"I have," she softly elaborated, her arms still locked around his neck, and then she pulled him down onto the mattress with her. "And I will." He didn't struggle, letting her hold him, and after a few moments, she felt his arm fall across her shoulders. "I cry when I care about something." His fingers were in her hair, and she breathed into the soft fabric of his shirt as she curled up against him.

"You're talking too much," Glados told her.

"You will forget everything again."

"Not this time," he solemnly stated, and Chell heard him removing and setting his glasses aside. She wanted to demand how he knew that, and why he sounded so negative about the whole thing, but she remained subdued as he stroked her hair, calming her. She wouldn't let him leave her side for a long time, even if he tried, but he didn't. Either the man was too fatigued or lacked the willpower. Chell didn't care as one of his hands rested on the small of her back, holding her close until earlier tears dissolved into nothing more substantial than the warm embrace of a bath's steam.

PORTALxxxxportalXXXXXXPortal

A/N: I'm still here, and I truly appreciate the feedback that people have continued to give. Sometimes a review does have an impact, prodding me to continue something that I'm having a hard time putting effort into. That's not me asking for more reviews either, but a heartfelt thank you to those of you who care about seeing this story completed. I'm almost at the end of this story now, and it can be difficult since I don't want to write without caring about what I'm writing. The life just seems to drain out of a story when that happens, so I will post the ending of this story when I feel the motivation to write an ending befitting it. It might be a few months, but as I hope this chapter proves, I haven't forgotten my promise to finish what I started. Thanks again!


	15. Chapter 15: New chapter

New chapter 14


End file.
